Touching the Stars
by tini243
Summary: Ever since the time they watched 'Cujo' together, she was addicted to being close to him. Everything she did came from that. JnR
1. Prologue

**Touching the Stars**

Author: Kristin ( tini243gmx.de )

Summary:  
Ever since the time they watched 'Cujo' together, she was addicted to being close to him.  
Everything she did came from this.

Rating: mostly PG, some chapters R  
Category: JnR Romance, Angst  
Timeline: begins after 'TOW Joey dates Rachel' AU from there  
Spoiler: nothing beyond season 8, contains characters from 'Joey'  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Never were, never will be.

Authors Notes: Thanks to Kerstin for her patience, her encouragement and constant handholding during the time I was writing this story. Thanks to Kelly for talking me into posting this.  
And last but not least, thanks to my lovely brother for introducing me to 'Friends'.

**

* * *

****Prologue **

a few days after the events of 'TOW Joey dates Rachel'

xxx

Rachel kept pacing back and forth across the small apartment. Everything was set. There was a horror movie in the VCR, a full bottle of orange juice in the fridge and two pizzas, still hot, waiting on the table in front of the barcalounger. Everything was going according to plan. She didn't know why she was so nervous.

It was just Joey. It was Joey - her friend. The fact that she was doing all of this because she was looking forward to spending the next few hours comfortably tucked into his arms, wasn't a big deal. Friends did that, right? No need to analyze it to death.

It was almost funny how her climbing in his lap and hiding her face against his shoulder sounded like one of her famous 'moves,' but it had really been nothing more than him being there for her, when she was scared witless by a movie. He made her feel safe and protected After a few minutes, she wasn't scared anymore, but she couldn't bring herself to let go. She just kept pretending, because she hadn't felt two strong arms around her for far too long, and it had felt so nice.

She had wanted nothing more than that. The weeks when she couldn't think of anything but having sex with the next best guy were fortunately over. And this was Joey – her friend, Ross' best friend, 'the nice guy', who wanted her and her baby to live with him just because they were such great friends. Thinking of him as anything other than that was downright ridiculous.

Still, it was nice. So, the next day she had asked Joey if he wanted to watch another horror movie with her sometime. It took him a surprisingly long time to say yes, considering that he tried to get her to sit in his lap for months. However, he had agreed, and here they were.

Just as she had finished pouring two glasses of orange juice, Joey emerged from the bathroom, toweling dry his hair which was still damp from his shower. She handed him the juice, and playfully toasted. He was a really good sport about its non-alcoholic nature. She had almost considered buying beer for him, but decided it would probably ruin the mood, if she had to run to the bathroom every few minutes because she was sick of the smell.

She dimmed the lights, smiled at him and motioned for him to take a seat beside her in the lounger. He perched uncomfortably on the arm of the chair. She knew all she had to do was to pull him closer to her. And she certainly planned on doing this.

An hour later she had forgotten all about her plans and was staring in horror at the television. On screen a tree-like woman, covered in roots, branches and leaves was trying to take a baby out of its bassinet. This was probably not the wisest movie choice for a woman in her condition, but to her defense she hadn't exactly given much thought to the movie when she was renting it.

"I can't watch this, I can't watch this! What is up with this woman?" she squeaked and pressed her face against Joey's chest.

Joey, on the other hand, was nearly falling off the lounger laughing. "Come on Rach, this has to be the single most lamest horror movie I've ever seen. This is not scary; it's funny."

"She's taking the baby!" Rachel cried.

Joey stopped laughing and made a face. "Yeah, that sucks. Maybe we shouldn't watch this crap at all."

He stroked her hair comfortingly, as he used the remote to turn the TV off.

The movie was off, and she no longer had an excuse, but Rachel wasn't ready to leave the warmth of Joey's embrace. When she felt him squirming somewhat uncomfortably beneath her, she realized that she had to say something.

"Would you … would you mind holding me for a while, Joe?"

He pulled her a bit closer, still softly stroking her hair.

"Of course not. Still scared?"

"No its just …", she said trailing off. Could she really tell him that being so close to him made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside? ...that she couldn't think of one single place she would rather be right now? ...that she wished he would hold her all night, that she wouldn't have to crawl into a cold, lonely bed tonight?

He pulled back a little and looked into her eyes. "Hey Rach, everything okay with you?"

"Yeah, yeah…" she answered a bit too hastily.

"You sure?"

"I guess it's a pregnancy thing or something. I really need to feel that I'm not alone right now."

"You know you're not, right?"

When she saw him looking so serious and concerned, she forced herself to smile up at him. "I know."

He gently brushed aside a strand of her hair and said with a voice barely above a whisper, "I'll always be there for you, no matter what, okay?"

She just nodded, afraid that she might start to cry if she tried to say anything. She just tightened her arms around him and buried her face against his neck.

After a while the urge to cry subsided a bit and she started to notice other things - the way she was snuggled up against him, the feel of his skin against her face, the scent of shower gel and something that was unmistakably him. All of this undid something inside of her, made her long for things that were out of her reach, that were forbidden and would never be hers to have. Without giving her actions a second thought she placed an opened mouthed kiss on the underside of Joey's jaw line.

Then she did it again. ...and one more. If she had been excited by the way his skin smelled, it was nothing compared to the taste of it, the feeling of its rough, stubbly texture against the softness of her lips.

Joey didn't move. He stared wide-eyed at the wall and looked shell shocked.

Rachel heard his labored, shallow breathing and felt his heart thumping rapidly under her hand against his chest. Just as she was about to ask if he was alright, he turned his head and began, "Rachel, what are ..." She cut him off with a kiss. She placed her hand behind his neck, pulled herself up and climbed over him, while still not breaking the contact. Joey didn't pull back, didn't resist, but he also didn't return her affections for what seemed like a very long time. Finally, he opened his mouth enough to allow her tongue to slip in the warmth, and the fuzzy feeling inside of her suddenly exploded into a ball of white-hot flame.

xxx

tbc


	2. Chapter 1 Joey

**Chapter One - Joey**

Rachel is kissing me. The women who is lately the sole object of all my thoughts and dreams is sitting on my lap and kissing me as if her life depends on it. Sadly enough, this can't be a good thing. It is bad, it shouldn't be happening and it sure as hell goes against every rule I ever followed. You don't make out with your best friends girlfriend, ex-girlfriend or relative. Okay, Chandler did this, but Ross had kissed his mother first, so maybe it doesn't really count that Chandler is now married to Ross' sister.  
You very certainly don't make out with the soon to be mother of your best friend's child.  
It is like my hottest fantasy and my worst nightmare rolled into one searing kiss. Boy, that girl can kiss! I don't think I have ever been kissed like that before and trust me, I have been kissed a lot.

She is writhing on my lap, making all those sounds that are threatening to drive me past the point of no return really soon.  
I've got to stop this, even if I'm gonna hate myself for that for the rest of my life.  
After a few more seconds I manage to push her away but speaking is a whole different matter.

"Rach, we can't ... This ... not right."

She looks at me as if she is about to cry. Oh, please don't cry Rachel, you know I can't deal with that.

"But it feels... it feels so right, Joey. It feels so ... so great."

Soon enough she kisses my neck and every conscious thought is fleeing me for a while.

"I can't ... can't do this, Rachel ... can't do this."

When I look at her I meet pleading eyes. "Please Joe, please. You don't have to do anything. Just ... just please let me do this. Please ..."

I don't understand what's going on. Well, I know a few weeks ago she has felt 'erotically charged' and was about ready to take me to bed, but that were the pregnancy hormones and after a while everything seemed to be back to normal.  
Well, normal if you don't count the fact that I started to develop this hideously inappropriate crush on her that makes it so much harder to say no to her right now. How can I say no to her when she looks at me like this, when she is practically begging me to let her do 'this' whatever 'this' might entail?

She doesn't wait for me to make up my mind. She just begins to unbutton my shirt and resumes kissing me, touching every square inch of my body she can get her hands on. I suppose I just have to let that happen. It doesn't seem real anyway.

Maybe it is just one of those dreams again. Some crazy dream where we went from watching a stupid horror movie to having sex on the barcalounger. Because from what I can tell, this is what's going to happen. She is making the sounds again. Not the one she told me about when she showed me her 'end of the night move'. No, this one sounds like she is in pain, like something terrible is going to happen to her if she can't get our clothes off fast enough.

I can't help her, I'm still paralyzed. On some level I realize that I'm not living up to my reputation at all, but I'm not even sure if she will remember what happened. It feels like I'm taking advantage of her since she is clearly not herself right now. On the other hand I'm really doing nothing at all. I'm not even kissing her anymore.  
I'm just sitting here like an idiot, feeling her hands and lips all over me, feeling her tugging at the zipper of my pants, hearing her squeal with delight that I'm not wearing any underwear and that I'm ... well , rock hard. Who wouldn't be after what she just did?

Somewhere along the way she must have managed to wriggle out of her sweatpants and panties. We are surely a sight to behold. Me with my open shirt and open pants pushed halfway down my thighs, her only in her t-shirt and naked from the waist downwards.  
It briefly occurs to me that this might be my last chance to prevent anything drastic from happening.  
But before I can form any coherent sentence, she is sinking down onto me and takes me inside in one smooth move. It is nothing like I ever wished it to be and at the same time it is better than everything I could ever imagine.

She begins rocking against me and moans and is all, "This is so good ... oh Joey I wanted that so badly, oh my god, oh yeah, oh Joey" and she looks ... she looks... I can't even describe how she looks. Ecstatic Rachel is probably the eighth world wonder. And God help me but I start to move with her. If we are already doing stuff, I might as well make it good for her.  
I bring my hand between our bodies and start rubbing my thumb against her clit. She lets out a surprised cry and looks down at me with an expression in her eyes that takes my breath away. It is like there is something more behind all this passion filled frenzy than the mere fulfillment of physical needs.

But soon she closes her eyes again and picks up the pace of her movements.

The onslaught of intense physical sensations combined with all those new and unfamiliar feelings I have, brings me close to the edge in a matter of seconds but still renders me unable to do more than just take what by some miracle is given to me.  
I feel her inner walls clenching around me when she comes, I hear her moan loudly, I can feel the first signs of an outstanding powerful orgasm and then I follow her into oblivion only seconds later.

Never – ever – was it like this for me.

For me, sleeping with women was always like some kind of a game. The thrill of the hunt, the excitement of scoring, the satisfaction of making it great for both of us. It doesn't matter who is hitting on whom, it is always a carefully constructed game of letting someone know you're interested but not giving the impression of wanting it too much. It is all about rules and moves and strategies, about things you do and you better don't, especially when you have sex. You can't let yourself lose control but of course you don't want to seem too controlled. There are expectations to fulfill and a reputation to uphold.

Rachel didn't expect this to happen, it was just something that came over her as unexpected as it came for me. No one of us was pursuing the other, we just stumbled into this. Who would have thought that the surprise effect could make it so much better.  
There were no plans and expectations, no time to control oneself or think about appearances and reputations. There was nothing but raw and unveiled need. For both of us. Because if I'm honest I know I needed this as much as she did from the moment she started kissing my neck.

When I have sex with other women, as soon as it's over, I already think of an excuse for taking off.  
This is not what I want with her now. I want to hold her shaking body until she calms down. I want to take her to my bed and touch her and kiss her and tell her what I feel. I want to wrap myself around her and let her fall asleep in my arms.

It hurts me more than I can say to know that this can't happen.

She pulls back to look at me, eyes still unnaturally bright and says, "Well, that was fun."  
That one hurts. There is nothing like a big bucket of cold water to bring you back to reality.

"Remind me to get you a new dictionary one of these days, Rachel," I say and it comes out a lot more grumpy than I intended it to.

Her expression darkens considerably. "Oh my God. What … what did I do? Oh god I'm so sorry. I … I .." She scrambles off me and storms into her room not even bothering to pick up her clothes along the way.

* * *

I've given up on trying to go to sleep around four in the morning. 

Not only that everything seems worse and worse the longer I thought about it. Thinking about it also made it impossible for me to cool off, to calm down. I could still smell her on my skin, I still had her taste on my lips, I could still feel her touch and the memory of the intense sensations she made me experience kept me in a constant state of almost unbearable arousal. I even tried to take care of that myself but that only helped for a while before the memories started everything again. What I need now is a really cold shower.

As I stand in the bathtub, ready to turn the water on, I pause for a while because suddenly it feels like I want to wash her off of me, to get rid of her.  
I push the silly notion aside and turn the water on. The cold spray hitting my heated skin almost hurts, but after a while it feels as if it brings back a bit of clarity, a bit of perspective.

Rachel had turned to me in a moment of weakness. And instead of being there for her, of helping her get through it in a way a friend would have, I took advantage of her for my own very selfish reasons.  
Why didn't I possess the same strength I had a few weeks ago when I told her to go to her room when she talked to me of what she was going through at the moment? I'm sure it was just the same thing. And we both were right about it being bad and wrong. Nothing has changed since then.  
Well, nothing except what I feel for her.

Shivering after standing under the cold water probably a bit too long, I reach for my towel and step out of the bathtub.  
Time to do some real thinking about what to do next.  
What I did has the potential to destroy everything that means something to me. But since I can't turn back time, since it can't be undone, the only way to stop that from happening is to forget about it. To pretend it never happened.  
And this is something we both will have to do.  
So it looks like there is no other way as to talk with her about that, however awkward this is going to be.

When Rachel is coming out of her room two hours later, she looks surprised to see me already up. Then she looks away from me and hurriedly heads for the bathroom.  
Yeah, this is gonna be very awkward.

After a few times of back and forth between her room and the bathroom, she comes towards the kitchen area, avoiding to look at me. "Good morning," she mumbles, sitting down on one of the stools.

"Good morning, Rach."

I'm shaking a box of Choco Pops and ask, "Cereals?"

Rachel nods and waits for me to fill her bowl and hand her a spoon.

"Rachel …"

"Joey …"

Starting to talk at the same time doesn't help the awkwardness of the situation.  
Okay so I'm the guy here and this is certainly not the first awkward situation I've ever been in, I should say something.

"Rach, about what happened. I think we shouldn't make a big thing about this. We didn't plan it, it just happened and it was purely physical. We both don't want to hurt Ross. So why don't we just forget about it? Like it had never happened."

Rachel looks down at her cereals, turning the spoon nervously around in her hand. "You're right, it's no big deal."

Thank God, that was so much easier than I thought. She don't even seem to blame me or anything.  
"Yeah, it's so not a big deal. And it won't happen again, so no harm done, right?"

"I'm really sorry I started this, Joe. I don't know what brought it on."

"Hey, it's okay. You're pregnant, it's the hormones," I offer.

Rachel doesn't look convinced.

"It's no big deal, remember," I try again.

Now I only need to figure out how to convince myself of that.

"Yeah, right, no big deal."

She is still looking down at her cereals as if she is seeing something particularly interesting and chews on her bottom lip sexily. God, I can't even look at her anymore without getting all hot and bothered. I guess that rules out any further physical contact, since I don't think I would be able to stop myself.

"It was really great, you know", she whispers.

So she upgraded it from 'fun' to 'great'. Who would have thought that being embarrassingly passive would be considered great. And yeah, totally amazing. Best I ever had. But of course telling her that is pointless cause we're not going to do it again – ever.

"Well, as much as I would like to feel really proud right now, I guess I don't deserve the credit. I didn't do anything. You were the one in charge."

Oh man, that **so** didn't sound like what I wanted to say. I hadn't meant to rub it in that she was practically jumping me. From what I gathered she feels bad enough about this already.

She still chases her cereals around in the bowl without eating them and says, "Maybe …. maybe that's part of why it was so great."

xxxxxx

tbc


	3. Chapter 2 Rachel

**Chapter Two - Rachel**

I am such a moron. Now he certainly thinks that I'm a self important bitch who only considers sex as great when she is calling all the shots.

I'm not even sure why I felt the need to say that, to tell him that is was great. He sure as hell had better sexual experiences in his life than being raped by his pregnant and very horny roommate. Hence the dictionary comment.  
What I wanted to say was, that it never was like that for **me**. Not with anyone of the men I've ever been with. I remember a talk I had with Ross a few years ago. I told him that I had never experienced that kind of passion where you have to have somebody right then and there. I longed for that, I wanted to have that so badly and a short while later, I had it. I had it with Paolo and of course, with Ross.  
But even when I was the one who initiated sex, the men I was with were always taking over. It didn't bother me, I guess the thought of being the one in charge always intimidated me to some degree. Of course, there was passion, but it never made me feel like **I** was the passionate one. Until last night I never even thought about it that way.

But now I know what it feels like to completely lose control, to lose yourself into your own needs and to act on them just the way you want.  
Yes, Joey's reluctance and passiveness had scared me because I was afraid he would turn me down, he even said that he thought it was wrong and that we shouldn't do it.  
But if it would have been different, if he would have been any more active than he was, if he would have tried to make this about him, about what he wanted out of this, I'm not sure that I would've been able to go through with it.

When I think about it, it seems like it is always this way between Joey and me. It is always about what I want, what I think, what I need.  
He goes with me on a fake date because I was whining about not being able to date anymore. He wants me and the baby to live with him even if it will have a serious impact on his life, too. He doesn't complain about the light mayo I made him switch to or about the beer he can't drink at home anymore because the smell makes me nauseous.  
He never makes me feel bad about things I did, decisions I made, even if they were stupid in retrospect. Hell, he even tried to make me feel better about what I did last night.  
He doesn't criticize me, corrects me or tries to always prove his points. Living with Joey made me feel so much more like an independent, self sufficient person, than living with Monica or Ross ever could.

I know, we are not involved. Romantic relationships are way more complicated when it comes to this. But I can't help thinking that if Joey and me were a couple, he still would accept me the way I am, he would still support my decisions, even if he wouldn't always agree with them.

Maybe that is why Ross and I failed so badly. He was there for me when I needed someone who already had done something with his life. He was sweet and caring and supportive and I really loved him for all of that. Things just began to go south when I started to make my own decisions about more than which apron to wear to work. That was when he started to second guess everything I did, to insinuate that I was in over my head with my work, with Mark and his supposedly evil plans to get me into bed. Everything that happened after this was a result of his lacking faith in me and my abilities. Yes, I'm way past blaming our breakup solely on him anymore. I made my share of mistakes too, the biggest one being that I failed to recognize what person Ross wanted me to be, what person he needed me to be.

When I slept with him the night we created the child that is growing inside of me, all of my feelings for him were still there, aching like an old wound that refuses to heal. And yeah, I started it, I wanted it to happen, but soon enough he had taken charge and even if it was a really great night, it pales in comparison to what I had last night with Joey.

Because with Joey, I could be just myself.

* * *

It's been four days. Four days of pretending nothing ever happened, four days of trying to convince myself that I just needed that one time, that this need is out of my system now. Four days of trying to look at Joey and to see nothing more than a friend. Four days of failing miserably at all of that.  
Joey doesn't make it any easier. He seems reluctant to talk to me, afraid to touch me, to do all the things we were doing before. Sometimes I get the feeling he can barely stand to look at me anymore.

I feel horrible. I never needed Joey more than I do right now and I managed to push him away with my thoughtless and inappropriate behavior.  
When I say need, I don't mean this only in a sexual way, although sometimes I can hardly think about anything else.  
Like I said to him that night, I need to feel that I'm not alone. I need somebody to lean on and for reasons I still don't dare to analyze, I need that somebody to be Joey.

I can't blame him for behaving like he does, though. If it were me in his place, I would have thrown myself out of the apartment four days ago. Well, maybe not. Besides, I can't go anywhere. Monica lives with Chandler, Phoebe lives with Mike and Ross practically lives with Mona. Joey would never send a pregnant woman away, no matter what happened.

I can't sleep. Sometimes I think I haven't slept in four days. And my colleagues probably think I sleep at work since I can't seem to concentrate on anything these days. Good thing I can blame it on being pregnant.  
I lie awake at night thinking of the man in the next room. Indulging fantasies about what I would do if I ever had the chance to do anything with him again. Wondering how I could have lived with this man for so long without feeling what I'm feeling now.  
Although I'm not quite certain what I am feeling. I know I want to be close to him, I want to touch him, assure myself of his presence. When we're at Monica's or in the coffee house I have to remind myself not to take the seat beside him because that would surely end up with me sitting on his lap and I am sure that would raise a few eyebrows.  
Probably even Joey's.

It hurts to think that he doesn't want this, doesn't want me. Not that I don't understand why. After two years of living with Joey I think I know a few things about him.  
He wants to take all the chances life has to offer, professionally and personally. He doesn't care for things that are complicated or potentially painful. He wants to have fun. And I can't blame him for this because not too long ago, this was pretty much what I wanted to have too.  
I can still remember how I freaked out when Ross started to tell me how he had already planned our future because back then, I didn't sound like what I wanted at all.

Being in a relationship with me would be no fun for Joey. It would probably be one hundred percent the opposite of fun. And yeah, this could be what Joey meant when he made that dictionary comment.  
It would be complicated and it would be painful. It would strain, maybe even destroy, his friendship to Ross and because of Monica maybe even his friendship to Chandler. Because of me being pregnant it would burden him with a responsibility he has no intention of carrying.  
There is no way he would even consider going there.

God, I am such an idiot.  
It is typical for me actually. I always seem to want the things or the people I know I can't have for some reason.  
My love for Ross always seemed to flare up when he was happy with somebody else. With Julie, with Bonnie, with Emily.

Am I still the spoiled little girl crying and stomping her feet in the toy store because daddy didn't want to buy me the newest Barbie, even though I never played with all the other ones I already had?  
Am I using Joey to make me feel better about myself?  
Am I destroying a perfect friendship to prove to myself that I can still get anyone I want?

This has to stop.  
Whatever I might or might not be feeling for him, whatever happens to me when I look at him, I have to get over it.  
And I have to talk to Joey to tell him that I am not gonna do anything ever again that would do more damage to our friendship. I have to try to make up for my mistake, even if it means burying everything that awakened inside of me when he first put his arms around me the night we were watching 'Cujo'.

All my musings have made it impossible for me to fall asleep for the night.  
I decide to get up, get myself a glass of water and think about what I'm gonna say to Joey tomorrow.  
I shuffle through the door and nearly jump out of my skin when I see a dark figure sitting on the couch.  
Turns out it's Joey.

What the hell is he doing on the couch in the middle of the night?  
Maybe he fell asleep there or something. No, he seems to be awake. It looks like he isn't doing anything but staring right ahead and wearing nothing but his bathrobe which is revealing a good portion of his gorgeous naked chest. Maybe he couldn't sleep either.

He looks up at me and then looks quickly down again.  
Normally he would've said something, made a joke about both of us being up in the middle of the night, or about me having to run to the bathroom every few minutes.  
But he just continues staring blankly at nothing in particular. When I come back with my glass of water the exact same thing happens again. He steals a glance at me and then looks away as if nothing happened.

I can't stand this anymore. We have to talk. Now.  
I'll do whatever he thinks necessary to make things right between us again, to go back to this easy camaraderie we always had. I'll even move out if that's what it takes.

Panic jumps at me and makes my blood turn cold when I think of the possibility that he might actually want me to do that. That I would have to live without him near me.  
Maybe it is even worse, maybe Joey despises me now, hates me for forcing him into a situation he never wanted to be in.  
What if I'll lose him? I can't lose him. I just … I can't.

When I sit down next to him he looks up. I can't read his expression because it is quite dark in here, but maybe it will make things easier not to have to look into his soulful deep brown eyes that make me lose every train of thought.

"Do you … do you hate me, Joey?" I ask although that was not the way I wanted to start this conversation. It's something I desperately needed to know.

He almost jumps off the couch when I say this. "What? God no, no, Rachel. What makes you think that? I could never…"

I put my hand up to cut him off. "Because of what I did, forcing myself on to you like that. Hell, I practically raped you."

He laughs out loud at that but he gets serious again when he realizes that I wasn't joking.  
When he takes my hands in his, it's all I can do not to start crying, because he is touching me again – and he doesn't hate me. "Rachel, I can't believe this is what you were thinking. I mean it was pretty intense and … uhm … unexpected. But trust me, if I wouldn't have wanted things to happen, things wouldn't have happened."

Somehow I manage to speak around the lump in my throat. "You wanted it to happen?"

His trademark smirk appears on his face and I can almost hear the suggestively raised eyebrows in his voice when he asks, "You couldn't tell?"

Now I feel foolish. I stare at our joined hands and try to come up with something clever to say. Of course I could tell. In a way. But like they say, making someone come is as easy as making someone scream. It's all about knowing which buttons to push. And I sure know which buttons to push. For that matter, I know from recent experience that he knows that too.

That doesn't really mean he wanted it.

"Look Rach. I know I've been a bit distant lately. I have to deal with what happened, too. This is all so very complicated. You … and Ross … and your history …"

I'm starting to get a little sick of hearing Ross' name coming out of Joey's mouth in relation to what is happening between us. Why does this so called 'history' still matter to him that much? It is just that – history. Ancient history to be exact - it has been five god damn years for crying out loud.

"… and the baby" he finishes while placing one hand on my belly.

Now there are definitely tears running down my face. How could I forget about my child? How could I ever think that it wouldn't matter? That it wouldn't matter to him that I slept with Ross just five months ago and that we're gonna have this baby together?

When I don't answer him for a while, he puts his hand under my chin and lifts it up so he can look straight at me. I guess the wetness all over my face tells him that I'm crying. He tries to wipe the tears away but they're just keep on coming. This situation is so messed up, I don't know how to get out of it.  
The worst thing is that right in this moment I barely think about all the things I'm supposed to think about. What I'm thinking, what my body is saying or rather screaming is that I want to do the same thing that I did four days ago. My tears are not so much about my somewhat hopeless relationship situation or because of my concern for the future of my baby. They are mostly the tears of a woman who is sexually frustrated beyond reason and who has the man of her desire sitting half naked right in front of her, touching her face.

"I'm so sorry, Rach. I didn't mean to make you feel bad. Please stop crying. Please. You make **me** cry if you don't stop. Please."

Maybe throwing myself into his arms will make everything better.  
For a while, it does. He is stroking my back and murmurs soothing words against my hair and I'm just basking in the glory of being welcomed back in his arms. I know it sounds corny but it feels like coming home.  
After these few glorious moments I notice that it probably wasn't such a great idea after all. Obviously he hadn't tied up his bathrobe all that carefully and it is now just hanging useless at his sides. So I'm finding myself lying half on top of a very naked Joey.  
How is a woman supposed to restrain herself in a situation like this? Because I sure as hell can't.  
I let my hand roam over his skin and hear him draw a sharp breath when I'm grazing the inside of his thigh. Looks like am not the only one with problems restraining myself.

He suddenly grabs my hand and hisses, "Rachel, what do you think you're doing?"

Now it's my turn to grin mischievously at him. "Can't you tell?"

"God Rachel, no. We just talked about that, we can't..."

He tries to get out from under me and cover himself up but I can't let him do that. I feel the desperation again, the urge that made me throw myself at him the last time. The sense of foreboding that if I let him go now, something would be lost forever.

"Please, Joey. Just this one time", I whisper, clinging to him. "I want this ...", no that sounds wrong somehow. I don't just want sex, I want him. "I want you so much."

I start kissing him, telling him with my hands and lips what I obviously can't make him understand otherwise.

"But Rach..."

"Please", I breathe between kisses, " ... need you… just this one time."

His resistance is getting noticeably weaker with every passing second.

"It won't happen again after tonight. I'll be good. I promise."

That one seems to have gotten through to him. He grabs my head with both hands and kisses me with a fervor that leaves me breathless.  
When he breaks the kiss all I can manage to mutter is a toneless "Wow". Then I push him back against the couch and claim his lips again, intending to match his passion with mine.

His hands are on my hips and start to go up under my t-shirt. I arch into his touch moaning and panting. I'm so far gone already it isn't even funny.  
When his hands reach the swell of my belly he suddenly stops. And I start to panic he is changing his mind.

"We're not gonna hurt her, are we?" he asks me.

I seriously can't believe we are talking about this now, after we already had sex before. But I know he is not gonna do anything I want him to do, if I'm not telling him what he wants to hear. If I weren't so unbelievably turned on right now, I surely would find his concerns adorable.  
As it is, I find it hard to speak.

"No ... you just ... not on top ... and being careful," I manage to pant out.  
I start kissing him again to turn his attention back to me.

Which works surprisingly well until he pulls back again. "I'm not gonna sit back and enjoy the show this time around, okay?"

Again he seems to expect me to answer so I just nod my head. If his kisses are any indication for what might come next, I would be stupid to say no. I just really hope we're done talking now.

He lifts my arms over my head and takes my t-shirt off. His hands are traveling down my arms again and then farther down while brushing lightly against my breasts. A wailing moan tears itself free from my throat at this teasing touch. He gets the hint and cups one of my breasts circling the nipple with his thumb.

I already noticed four days ago that I respond to the slightest touch so much more than I used to. I am more aware of my own body and my skin is a lot more sensitive than before. Especially the skin of my breasts and - of course - my nipples.  
I'm still surprised though, that only the feeling of his hands caressing my breasts, the feeling of his tongue exploring my mouth and his teeth nipping lightly at my lips is enough to build up that familiar pressure inside of me to the point where stars are exploding behind my closed eyes.  
I hear someone cry somewhere and realize only later that this must have been me, crying out his name.

For a while I'm hanging limply in Joey's arms and try not to be embarrassed at how easy it is to get me off.  
Just then Joey whispers something into my ear. "You are so amazing", he says with so much sincerity in his voice that I don't even know anymore why I was worrying. This is my Joey, the man I can be myself with.

When I look at him, the sight of his smile, barely visible in the darkness, creates this all consuming warmth inside of me that I obviously only feel when I am with him. This insight comes with the gut wrenching pain of realizing that this is gonna be the last time I'm ever gonna be able to feel it. Guess I will have to make it count.

When I try to get rid of my pajama pants, Joey stops me. "Let me do this."

He places me on the couch and kneels on the floor so that he is between my legs. And then he is kissing me again. His hands are gliding down my naked back and are eventually reaching the waistband of my pants. He gently pulls it down and I lift my hips up a bit so it would come off easy. Somehow I realize I will have to stop kissing him if I want him to get that damn thing off me completely so I break the kiss. I slowly release my grip on his head and put my arms down beside me. He looks at me as if he wants to ask me for permission to go further. It makes me feel as if this is actually our first time, as if nothing had happened four days ago. His hands are on my thighs, still gripping the waistband of my pants. I put my hands on top of his and shove them further downwards. He follows my lead, his gaze still locked with mine. When the irritating piece of clothing finally pools around my ankles I toss it to the side with one foot.

Now that my eyes have adjusted to the darkness, I can watch him studying my naked body. With the way he is looking at me, with so much open admiration and wonder, his gaze feels like a gentle caress, like the touch of butterfly wings against my heated skin.  
If I want to be able to let him go after tonight, he has to stop looking at me as if I am the most amazing, the most beautiful thing he ever laid eyes on.  
So I do the next best thing that comes to mind. I grab his head and kiss him, drawing his naked body to me and reveling in the sensation of his skin on mine.  
He doesn't need more convincing to get things going.

My assault is countered with a scorching kiss that leaves me shaking with need. He runs his hand over the inside of my thigh and my legs open up further seemingly by their own volition.  
When I feel the first light touch against the centre of my desire I have to break the kiss and throw my head back against the couch moaning loudly. He kisses his way down my neck and upper body; his tongue and lips leaving a wet trail on my skin that makes me shiver. I try to push myself a bit forward towards his unmoving hand but in this moment his hot wet mouth covers one of my nipples and I am lost in a sea of overwhelming sensations.

Just as I'm ready to explode just from what he is doing to my breasts, he starts to delicately stroke me between my legs. Needless to say his skillful ministrations bring me to the point of no return in no time.  
The first time it was like the short and powerful release of pent up pressure. This time the pleasure is rolling over me in gentle waves, leaving me breathless and still wanting more. Not only more of these sensation, but more of him. I want him to feel what I feel, to lose control, to give in to want and need the same way I did.

I put my hands on his chest pushing him away from me and then I slide from the couch next to him, making him move away further. Sensing what I have in mind, he lies down onto the floor. The thought that he's following my lead so willingly makes my desire burn even hotter than before. It is not that he is submissive, he isn't, but he lets me set the pace. Again giving me the feeling that this is about me, about what I want, what I need.  
And I know what I want now.

I crawl over him and start kissing his face, his mouth, his neck. Hearing him breathe irregularly and gasping every so often when I vary the intensity of my attentions is far more arousing than I would ever have imagined.  
Again the thought of this being the last time strikes me with painful brutality, making me flinch. I have to make this count.  
If this is gonna be the last time I get to touch him ever, I better make sure that I memorize every square inch of his skin, every spot that makes him groan with pleasure, every texture, every taste.

When I reach the place I was headed for, he is already writhing under me, groaning my name in an almost begging way. This is exactly where I wanted to have him.

When I take him into my mouth he starts to sound helpless, pained almost.  
I know he wants to hold back, I know he thinks it shouldn't be like this but I'm not about to give him a choice. There is no doubt that he will be ready again for doing it the way he thinks it's supposed to be in no time, so I'm doing what I need to do to make this count for me.

Like I said, I know which buttons to push and I'm bringing this knowledge to good use right now, using everything weapon in my arsenal, my tongue, my lips, my teeth, my hands. I can pinpoint the exact moment when he gives up and lets go. Holding back for as long as he did makes his release slow and intense, the spasms run through him multiple times before they stop.

When I kiss my way back up again, I feel his chest heaving with sharp and labored intakes of breath. I kiss the spot over his heart and can feel the vibrations his heart creates by hammering against his ribs rapidly. I wish by kissing this spot I could leave an imprint of myself in there. Marking him, declaring him mine.

"You're amazing," I murmur into his ear.

His mouth is soft under mine, pliable, lightly trembling.  
Just when I start to wonder when he's going to recover from this, he kisses me back with renewed passion. He rolls me over and looks at me intently for a few moments before announcing, "Your turn".

In an instant he has taken a few cushions from the couch and positioned me on the floor quite comfortably.  
I know what's next. The knowledge makes my body hum and vibrate with anticipation. For a second I wonder why I don't feel the usual inhibitions and insecurities I normally have when doing this with someone. Why I don't ask myself if he's only doing it because he feels obliged to. But the answer is always the same. Because he's Joey.

He starts to kiss me and I let myself fall. I stop thinking and give myself over to sensations and feelings, to the endless variety of kisses and touches that reduce me to a quivering mass of need before his mouth even reaches the spot where I need it the most.  
Then finally…finally he is there … and God, he really knows what he's doing and he does it so well. He runs his tongue around my clit in teasing circles and I try to push myself further against him, growling frustrated, but I don't get far because he firmly holds me still with both his hands on my hips. I can feel his lips curling into a smile at my outburst, but I am way past caring about self-control at the moment. After thankfully only a few more moments of teasing he goes at it really fast and hard, bringing me closer … closer…  
On my peripheral field of awareness I register his right hand leaving it's place on my hips, wandering around my thigh. Then he slides a finger inside me and starts pumping into me and this is enough to send me flying.

When I'm back in the real world, Joey is beside me again, caressing my face, looking at me with the expression I saw on him before. The one that opens my heart and frees an emotion I don't want to feel, because the memory of it is laced with heartache and pain.

So I do what I did when he first looked at me like this. I kiss him again.  
It takes only a few minutes of kissing for me to realize that I'm not as satisfied as I thought. There is still something I want to do, still something I want to feel and there is no mistaking that he is ready for that again. I push him onto his back, straddling him and taking him inside all in one fluid movement.

This is what I want, what I need. Why can't I have this, why can't I have him? Why has this to be the last time?

I begin to move, trying to savor the feeling of having him inside of me, trying to draw it out. But despite the voice in my head chanting 'last time' with every one of my movements, despite the fact that there are tears burning in the back of my throat and despite the fact that I want it to last forever, it is over much to soon. I can't welcome the slow and sweet fulfillment this is bringing me, because it means the end.

Luckily for me, it isn't quite the end since Joey seems to be far from where I am. Looks like my idea from before was even better than I thought.  
I can't move though, because I'm shaking too hard.  
Joey places my hands on his chest, puts his hands on my hips to steady me and then begins to move, controlled and heartbreakingly careful.  
The waves of the orgasm I just had haven't ebbed away yet and his thrusts don't let them. They undulate through me, keeping me on the edge and I come at least twice before I hear him groan when he finds his own release.  
So this is what they call a multiple orgasm. Too bad it's gonna be my last.

I lie down beside him and for a while the only sound that can be heard is our labored breathing.  
My throat is still burning and I know I can't hold back the tears much longer. I turn to face him, place one kiss over his heart and one on his mouth. "Thank you, Joe."

When I'm at my door he calls after me. "Rachel, wait,"

But I don't turn around. I can't because tears are already running down my face and my chest hurts with suppressed sobs and I don't want him to remind me of my promise or something like that. I want to take this with me as untainted as possible.  
In my room I crawl into my bed and press my face against my pillow, stifling the agonized wail that seems to come right out of my heart.

* * *

When I come out of my room the next morning, hoping against hope he won't be there, his gaze is drilling into me the minute I appear at the door. "Good morning," I say trying to sound as casual as possible while heading for the bathroom.

He doesn't even answer.

I shut the door behind me leaning against it and thinking about how to handle the situation, what to say to him.  
Maybe it isn't even that hard. We already had that conversation. It's no big deal, I promise it won't happen again, we just pretend it never happened.  
Although I have the feeling that this won't be enough for him this time around since it failed to work last night.

My drawn out ritual of showering and dressing and getting myself ready for work had bought me some time, but I still don't know what to tell him.

When I make my may over to the kitchen, he glares at me, obviously pissed. I guess starting to make small talk would annoy him even more so I cut right to the chase. "Joey I … I don't know what to say. I know we wanted to forget about it, but …"

"Then why do we keep doing this?"

"I … I can't help it. It feels so … good."

"Rachel, this is not the point. You know how I feel about this, about doing this to Ross."

So this is what he is so upset about. That he'd jeopardized his precious friendship.

"I'm not gonna tell anyone. Not Phoebe, not Monica, no one. If we're not telling anyone, no one will ever know."

He runs his hands through his hair a few times shaking his head. Maybe I should tell him that I'm sorry but the thing is - I'm not. How can I convince myself we did something wrong when it felt so right? "And I already promised it won't happen again," I offer instead. That should do the trick, it did yesterday.

"If I wouldn't hold you to your promise, would you want to do it again?"

My first instinct is to lie. Maybe that would make it easier for him, maybe even for me if I could bring myself to believe it this time. What I doubt. "Yes, I'm sure I would. I felt … I never … it was amazing. Knowing it isn't going to happen again makes me …" Want to pull my hair out one by one? Wish Ross wouldn't exist? Want to kill myself? "… sad."

He looks positively heartbroken now. I should have told him the lie.

"Do you even care about me, Rachel? Do you care about me at all?"

He sounds accusing. As if I've never considered his feelings and maybe this isn't even that far from the truth. I have the strong urge to tell him exactly how much I care about him. But I don't think this it what he needs to hear, if anything it will makes things even more complicated.

"Of course I do, Joey. I care about you."

"Then why are you doing this to me? Because Rachel, I can't … I can't live like this. It kills me," he pleads.

Up until know I had no idea how much I was hurting him. I should have because of course I know how much he hates secrets and lies and how much he values loyalty to his friends and keeping to the rules of friendship. I have no right to mess with his head like this just because I selfishly put my feelings and needs above his.  
And this time I won't get weak because even though the thought of never sleeping with him again is killing me inside, the last thing I ever wanted was to hurt him.  
"I am sorry Joe," I say and I mean it.

xxxxxxx

tbc


	4. Chapter 3 Joey

**Chapter Three - Joey**

"Knowing it isn't going to happen again makes me …sad."

It makes her sad? Do you know Rachel, what it makes me? It makes me want to scream. It makes me want to rip my heart out just to get rid of the searing pain inside. It makes me want to scratch the memory of the indescribable experience we shared yesterday out of my brain, because I know that nothing and no one could ever measure up to this. It makes me curse the day I fell in love with you.

But she obviously doesn't feel that way. For her it is just something she liked - a lot - and that is taken from her and so she is … sad.

Maybe I'm assuming too much though, maybe I should ask her what she feels about me.

"Do you even care about me, Rachel? Do you care about me at all?"

For a very short delirious moment she looks at me as if she is going to tell me that she returns my feelings. But she quickly averts her eyes and says,

"Of course I do, Joey. I care about you."

This is all there ever will be. I should have known. What was I thinking getting my hopes up like that? There is something not adding up here though. If she doesn't feel more than friendship for me, if she is honest about caring about me, she should know what she is putting me through.

"Then why are you doing this to me? Because Rachel, I can't … I can't live like this. It kills me."

"I am sorry Joe."

Yeah, I bet she is. I'm just not sure her being sorry has anything to do with me.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

a few days later

"Joey, Joey you have to feel this, the baby is kicking!"

Rachel is standing in the door to my room looking excited.

"Really, great," I say trying to sound as excited as she is.

"Come on Joe, you have to feel this."

She takes a few steps towards me and sits down on my bed right beside me.

"Here, can you feel this?" she asks taking my hand and placing it on her belly.

At first I feel nothing at all but then something is bumping against my hand. Once. And then again. There is actually something moving inside of her. Someone.

"Yes, yes I can feel it. God, this is amazing."

After a while I remember something my sister Gina showed me when she was pregnant.

"Rach, would you let me try something one of my sisters once showed me?"

Suddenly Rachel's excitement is gone and she looks at me anxiously.

"It's just that thing where you try to get the baby to sort of … follow your hands."

"That works?"

"It did with Gina. But I don't know if maybe it's to early in your pregnancy to work, so …"

"Let's try it."

"Okay … uhm … I would have to sit behind you, alright?"

She only nods.  
I carefully move behind her so that she is sitting between my legs. Then I put my arms around her to lay my hands on her belly again.  
The baby is still kicking what means we have a good chance for this to work.

Being so close to her makes me a bit dizzy. Her hair smells so good and her perfect ass pressed against my crotch isn't making it any easier to concentrate on what I was planning to do.

"It probably …" okay, let's try that again without the embarrassing squeak in it.

"It probably is going to work better if we have skin to skin contact, you know?"

She makes some sound that I interpret as a yes.  
I slide my hands under her shirt and press them lightly against her skin.  
The baby seems to have to think about this for a while and then she starts kicking against the unexpected source of warmth.

"Wow, it's working," Rachel whispers excited.

"Wait, that's not all."

I move my hands a bit to the side and after a few moments, the kicking follows.

"This is so unbelievable!" Rachel says while placing her hands over mine.

I don't even remember being so in awe at the wonder of a little person moving inside of somebody when it was Gina. Well, I was 15 years old back then and touching my sisters pregnant belly felt more wrong than anything else.

But this time it makes me feel like I am witnessing a miracle. That she is allowing me to experience this with her is like a wonderful and unexpected gift.  
I can't believe I thought of her as unfeeling and selfish a few days before.

"Hey baby," I say when the baby stops kicking.

"You know, these hands on your mom's belly? That's me, your uncle Joey."

Rachel giggles a bit at that.

"I guess your tired now, you're probably already sleeping again. I just wanted to tell you that I can't wait to see you and …. I … I love you"

The last words only come out as a whisper because the second I started to say them my chest constricted quite painfully. Saying those words right next to Rachel's ears but not being able to say it to her is a lot harder than not saying them at all.

"Thank you," Rachel whispers after a while, "Thank you for showing me this."

"I have to thank you for sharing this, Rach. It means a lot to me."

We sit like this for a while, my hands still on her, her hands still on mine and I am still acutely aware of what her nearness does to me.

I can't seem to let her go, to stop touching her, to stop breathing in her scent.  
She is trembling in my arms.

"Joey I … I have to go."

I can't let her go. I need her.

"Don't … don't go."

To emphasize what I just said I start kissing the side of her neck. A pained sound comes from her.

"Joey, you said …"

Screw what I said. This is where she belongs. Right here in my arms, in my bed.

"Maybe I was wrong", I whisper against the skin right below her ear.

"Maybe this can work …nobody has to know … you tell me when … and we'll do it."

Okay, so I admit I'm not making much sense when all the blood that is supposed to be in my brain is located further south.

I hope she understands what I was trying to say, though.

I want to be there for her. Hell, I promised her to always be there for her through all of this. And if just having sex with her is what it takes, I'll do it. Besides, who wouldn't?

Who cares if she doesn't return my feelings?  
I have enough of them for both of us.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

five weeks later

There is a reason men shouldn't make any important decisions when they're in a state of arousal. It's not just because the lack of blood in your brain, it has also something to do with completely losing perspective if there is something right in front of you that you want so badly, you feel you might die if you can't have it.

And that night five weeks ago when Rachel came to me while the baby was kicking, I wasn't just aroused – I was burning.

I would've done everything – absolutely everything – to make her stay, to get to make love to her. So without even thinking about further implications, I agreed to be her go-to-guy when she needed sex.

Not one day went by since then when I didn't regret that decision. And there wasn't one single time I slept with her when I wasn't glad I made it.

The first time I deeply regretted agreeing to this was right after we had sex that night, in the very moment she thanked me and got up to leave my bed, just like the last time. It was like she got what she came for and now that it was over there was no reason for her to stay. That moment made me painfully realize exactly what I had gotten myself into. I felt cheap and used. Like I wasn't even worth a few minutes of pretending.

I wonder if this is what I made all the women feel whose bed I left as soon as sex was over.  
Probably.

On the other hand, when we're doing it, I always think it's worth all the pain.

Chandler was absolutely right when he said that having sex with a woman you're in love with is an experience beyond everything you always thought having sex could be like.  
I only wish it could be more than just sex.

These past weeks have put me through every emotion imaginable and I am slowly but surely coming apart.  
I am short tempered and cranky, sad and depressed, moody and generally insufferable.

On some level I know this can't go on. I can't do this to everyone anymore.

Not to Monica, Chandler and Phoebe, especially not to Ross and most importantly not to Rachel. Because even if she might think everything is okay, it isn't and my not telling her this is most likely gonna have a very ugly ending because I really don't how long it will be before I finally snap.

Big question is, why haven't I done something about it already?

As much as it hurts to admit it, the reason is, I'm weak. I can't bring myself to say no to her, I can't bring myself to accept that I have to give her up. Even if I never really had her.

The thought of never being able to touch her again, to kiss her and make love to her is unbearable.

Worst thing is the hope that I still carry somewhere in my heart. Hope that by some miraculous twist of fate she'll love me back one day. Because this hope thwarts every attempt at doing what would be right.

A knock on the door shakes me out of my dark thoughts. I walk over and unlock the door, wondering why Chandler had never commented on the fact that it is always locked lately.  
I'm glad he hadn't since I can hardly tell him Rachel and I don't want anyone walking in on us having sex.

"Hey, Joey. I was wondering if you're up for losing at foosball today."

"Why not," I shrug unenthusiastically.

After playing quietly for a while the questions start, as always.

"So Joey, anything new?"

I know what he is really getting at. I noticed how everyone is walking on eggshells around me. I know he senses that something is very wrong with me and he just wants to help by getting me to talk about it.

I shake my head no.

"How is work?"

"Great."

Amazingly enough, this is the truth. Although all of my colleagues probably hate me now for being an insufferable ass, the directors seem to be excited about my newfound 'intensity' and my ability to portray any emotion they want Drake to show without much effort. Now I can even cry on command, something I've never managed before. I'm starting to understand that method actor thing the guys at my acting classes were always raving on about.

"Anything exciting on the dating front?"

It's a bit unusual that this comes up so early in the conversation but that makes it no less annoying.

"Geez, Chandler for the hundredth time, **no**. You just asked me this question yesterday."

There, this is how I am these days. Most of the times, Chandler gives up after getting an answer like that. Not today though.

"Yeah and you know what, buddy? Since you're blowing up at me like that every time I'm asking, since you obviously weren't on a date for two months now, I think it is safe to assume that therein lies the reason people all but stopped asking you **anything**."

His unexpected outburst takes all the anger out of me.

God, he used to be my best friend. Am I losing a friend now because of a woman? Or better, am I losing two of them? Maybe all the people who were like my family for the past nine years?

I fight back a wave of desperation that is threatening to crush me.

"You have no idea, Chandler," I say finally.

"Then tell me."

The weird thing is, I really want to tell him – everything.

"I wasn't on dates for the past weeks because I'm in some sort of a relationship."

Okay, some would say you could hardly call what Rachel and I have a relationship, but it's been six weeks and I still didn't get any closer to find a fitting label, so I go with this.

"Well, I would say good for you but something's telling me it's not."

Damn right, Chandler, it's not.

"I like her – a lot. I mean … I never felt for a woman what I feel for her. I can't stop thinking about her, I lie awake at night thinking about her."

Now that Chandler opened the gate, I can't seem to stop talking.

"She is the most beautiful, the most amazing woman I've ever met. I only need to look at her and that makes me feel … so much. Sometimes it feels like my heart is to small to contain all the emotions she stirs up in me. She is smart and funny, she is the first woman that made me enjoy the time we spend together without having sex. Although if we have, Chandler, it is incredible, it is …"

"Okay Joey, do me a favor and leave that to my imagination, will you."

Good thing that this makes me stop talking. Who knows what else would have poured out of me.  
Chandler senses that he made me stop and tries to get me to talk again.

"This all sounds really great, what's the problem?"

"She doesn't feel the same for me."

It's amazing, really. All my thinking in the past few weeks, all my agonizing over the baby and Ross and everything hadn't brought me that close to figuring out what the one thing is, that every other problem is related to. But this is it. This is the one and only thing that is wrong with us.

"But you said you're sleeping together, so I guess she has to feel something for you."

"She doesn't **have** to feel anything for me. She wouldn't be the first woman who couldn't keep her hands off me without having any feelings. I seem to have that effect on women."

Despite my surely obvious distress about this, Chandler looks at me with a raised eyebrow and a sarcastic grin.

"Poor Joey, must be hard to be this sexy."

People are right, it really helps to talk about stuff. It puts everything into perspective and makes you see things more clearly, when you alone are thinking yourself into the clouds.

It sometimes even makes you laugh at yourself.

"Yeah, … can't help it," I grin back at him.

After smiling at me for a while since he probably hadn't seen me laugh in quite some time now, Chandler gets serious again.

"So let me get this straight. She doesn't return your feelings but you're still sleeping with her because…?"

I'm a pathetic sap who can't let go of the woman he is in love with.

"… I like her."

"Right. And obviously, the situation is driving you insane and is making you behave in a way that makes people despise you. Let me think … what would be the only logical thing to do in a situation like this?"

What is he now? Psychic?

"Chandler, I know I should end it. Don't you think I know that? I can't … I just can't do that."

"Joey, I don't' know how else to put this but you have to. And not because of your friends. We love you and we will be with you through all of this, even if you're a jerk sometimes. But because of you. Do you even realize how much you've changed? It's like I don't even know you anymore and I used to know you better than myself. I liked the guy you were, he was a great guy and a really good friend. And I know a lot of people who think like this. You can't do this to yourself anymore."

He is right. I know he is right, but still …

"I can't lose her."

"But what's to lose, Joey? A woman who sleeps with a great guy like you, a guy bazillions of other women would love to have, and is too stupid to hold onto him and return his feelings? Seriously, don't you think you can do better than being some girl's fuck buddy? I mean, especially if that's apparently not what you want to be for her. By holding onto her you'll miss the chance to meet a woman who will be the right one for you, who will make you happy."

Thinking of other women feels all sorts of wrong somehow.

"She is the right one for me."

Chandler shakes his head at my stubborn refusal to follow his reasoning.

"She isn't. She is making you miserable. Trust me, relationships aren't supposed to make you miserable. They're supposed to make you happy."

Yeah, but…

"I can't let her go."

"Look Joey, I know how this feels, I've been there. But trust me, you will get over her, the pain is gonna go away eventually."

"I don't know, Chan. It really doesn't feel like it will, ever."

"Just stay away from her, make sure you don't see her anymore. That makes it easier at first and later it makes it easier to forget about her."

Great, this is exactly what isn't gonna be possible, even if I'd want to.

"Just think about ending it as a way to make yourself stop hurting. You have to promise me you'll at least think about it."

He looks at me as if it matters to him a great deal that I will think about this.  
I'm glad he is my friend. I don't even wanna think where I would be today if it weren't for him.  
And if thinking about what he said is making him happy, it's the least I can do.

"Okay, I can promise you that."

He smiles relieved.

"That's a start."

There is still something he obviously wants to know.

"Who is she anyway? Do I know her?"

I was starting to wonder why he hadn't already asked. And as much as it pains me, especially now, I have to lie to him about that.

"No, you don't."

I am not sure if he really believes me. He doesn't look convinced.

"So, what about a nice cup of coffee?" I suggest, wanting to change the topic.

"Sounds great."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When we come to Central Perk, all the girls are there, including Rachel. I try not to look at her because after essentially talking with Chandler about ending things, it feels like she would be able to see the betrayal in my eyes.

"Hi Chandler, Hi Joey," comes the greeting from all three of them.

"Hi," I say forcing myself to smile.

Before any real conversation can start, Ross comes storming in looking devastated.  
Not waiting for anyone to ask what's wrong with him, he announces,

"Mona just broke up with me."

Everyone seems to be taken aback and sorry for him. I am not. Not that I expected them to break up, for all I could tell they seemed happy. On the other hand, I hadn't paid much attention to my friends relationships lately. But I am absolutely not sorry for Ross right now.

If anything, I feel sorry for myself. There is an unclear dread simmering in the pit of my stomach.

Ross is single again. This can't be good.

Just as I begin to analyze this further, Rachel envelopes Ross in a loving hug and comforts him, stroking his back, murmuring kind words of encouragement.

A powerful emotion hits me with the force of a freight train. Jealousy.

I can't breathe, I can't think and I certainly can't watch this without going crazy.

I make up some excuse about having to learn lines for DOOL and leave the coffeehouse as fast as propriety allows it.

Outside I lean my head against the nearest lamppost, closing my eyes, breathing slowly in and out, trying to get myself under control.

Chandler was right, now there is no doubt about it anymore – I am losing my mind.

In there, I was seconds away from ripping Ross out of Rachel's arms. Yelling at him that she is mine, that he has no right to get his hands all over her, just because he **thinks** no one could ever love her as much as he does.

To be honest, I felt that urge before. Not as powerful and demanding because he was still with Mona back then, but sometimes when Ross touched Rachel's belly and talked to the baby, or when he gave Rachel a kiss on the cheek, I really wished to be able to tell him that he was trespassing into another man's territory. I even fantasized about how good it would feel to throw it in his face that I am fucking his ex-girlfriend, that I make her scream **my** name when she comes.

I hit my head against the lamppost a few times but that doesn't change what slowly dawns on me.

Yes, Chandler was totally right. I've changed. I barely recognize myself anymore. How could I stoop to this level of viciousness?

Ross is my friend – at least he used to be. If anyone has the right to be jealous and feel betrayed and angry, it's him.

What would he say if he knew what I am doing behind his back?

I wince at that thought. There is no way he would be able to forgive me for this – ever.

But still, there is the nagging feeling in the back of my mind that he is getting something he doesn't deserve, something that I deserve.

And that is not that he gets to touch her. I get to touch her far more intimately and extensively than he would ever know. What drives me crazy with jealousy is that he is getting her affection, her comfort. That he gets a hug just because he needed one. He can stay in her embrace as long as he wants to without it having anything to do with sex.  
He gets all this without having to ask for it.

I haven't even got it when I asked.

"Don't go Rachel", "Why don't just stay here for a while, Rach?", "You don't have to leave, Rach."

She never appeared as if she had even heard what I said when she left me.

Once I grabbed her hand, intending to not let her go, to get her to listen to me.

"Please Rachel, stay with me."

She just shook her head sadly, tore her hand free from my grasp and left without a word.

I've never asked her again.

Shouldn't that tell me something? Shouldn't that make me realize that Chandler was right? There is no future in this, all my hopes are highly pointless and borderline silly.

For her, it's always gonna be Ross. And why shouldn't it be? He is the father of her baby.

What am I still doing standing in their way like that?

Ross is single again. This might be good.

This might be my chance to come clean with her. To show her where she belongs, to make things right again.

Chandler was right, it would be good to stay away from her and maybe I can do that now.

She can live with him. She should live with him, I wouldn't even need to explain that to anyone. No one would ever guess where that came from, everyone would think it's a good idea.

I'm gonna call Ross' cell phone and ask him to come over to my place with Rachel.

I will tell them it would be good if she would move in with him and then I can start to get my head back together.

Ross is single again. This is good.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Uhm, sit down. I wanna talk about our situation."

Rachel is blushing furiously. She probably thinks I'm gonna spill the beans to Ross. If that's the case she is in for a surprise.  
The tricky thing is to make it sound as if this has nothing to do with the things between her and me.

"The thing is...'cause I live with Rachel I'm here for a lot of the baby stuff, okay?"

I look at Rachel to make her understand where I'm going with this.

"And Ross...Ross is missing everything. So..."

The color of Rachel's face has abruptly changed from beet red to ghostly pale.

"Yeah?" she prompts cautiously.

"Maybe you two should live together."

Rachel tries to say something but nothing comes out. After a few moments she asks toneless, "Are you asking me to move out? Do you not want me here?"

I almost wince at how hurt she sounds. I didn't mean to hurt her but I can't think of any other way to resolve this messed up situation. We can't live like this anymore. At least I can't. Of course I can't say that or Ross would know what is actually going on here.

"Oh no, no I love living with you. It just seems that...if you're gonna have a roommate, you know, it might as well be the father."

Rachel looks as if she is about to cry. I don't get this. She should be happy. Ross is single again, she can live with the father of her baby and who knows what else is gonna happen. Maybe they can finally have their happily ever after. Wouldn't she want that?

Ross on the other hand is beyond excited at my idea.

"God, I would love to be around for you and the baby. And we …we can just try it like on a temporary basis."

She shakes her head.

"But Ross, its you and me."

"So? Sure! But it … it wouldn't be anything romantic. We're past that, right? And I'm just coming out of a relationship, I'm not gonna dive right into the next one, okay?"

I'm starting to get uncomfortable with the direction of this conversation. I don't want to think of any romantic relationship possibilities between Ross and Rachel. They should make their decision now and get it over with.

Suddenly a realization hits me. If there were something there, something I could base my hopes on that she might have feelings for me too, anything at all, she wouldn't hesitate. She would tell Ross right then and there that she wants to live with **me**.

Time to find that out.

"All right now, so? What do you think?"

Although I'm pointedly looking at Rachel, Ross feels the need to announce his opinion rather redundantly.

"We should to that. Joey, this is such a smart idea. Am I right, Rachel?"

Rachel sighs defeated.

"Yeah, maybe. Maybe we should do that."

Ross jumps up excitedly and hugs her for what seems like an eternity.

Blinding pain is ripping through me. So this is what it feels like when your heart is torn to pieces. And I thought it was bad before.


	5. Chapter 4 Rachel

**Chapter Four - Rachel**

I guess I stopped crying about half an hour ago after doing it for what seemed the whole time since Ross left after we moved all my stuff.  
Honestly, I think pregnant women have to drink twice as much water as a normal person only because every drop we drink pours right out of our eyes again.

When Ross left I told him that I want to spend one more night at Joey's.  
What I didn't tell him was that I was thinking about spending it with Joey.

But right now I'm not in any condition to do so.

After agonizing over it for hours I am still not closer to know what to think about me moving in with Ross than I was when Joey first made that suggestion.

I can't believe Joey made that suggestion.

It is the worst case of crappy timing in history because just a few hours ago, before this madness started, I finally found the reason why I don't want to leave ever.

I've fallen in love with him.

I don't know exactly when it happened but I suppose that doesn't really matter. These feelings have been there for some time now and I was just too afraid to give them a name. Too afraid to say something to the man who should know about them. Who – by the way – wants me to move in with someone else.

I take a deep breath to prevent another bout of crying and think back to the moment everything became so delightfully clear to me that all I wanted to do was to run to Joey and tell him everything.

We were in the coffee house when Ross came in and told us about his break up with Mona. She obviously decided she didn't want a boyfriend with Ross' whole emotional baggage and with a child from his ex-wife on the way.

It would be interesting to hear what she would've to say to me moving in with him again.

Strange thing was, I felt sorry for him. I felt not one other single emotion than compassion for his pain.

At first I didn't even realize it. I was comforting him and telling him all the things friends are supposed to tell friends in situations like this. That he's gonna be alright, that he's gonna find somebody else, that she wasn't right for him anyway, that we will be there for him.

After we stopped hugging, Ross smiled sadly at me and told me that he felt better already and this made me happy. Because it meant that he is really gonna be alright.

It was then that I noticed Joey had left. The others said he told them something about having to learn lines for tomorrow's DOOL scenes and had left in a hurry.

I decided to give him some time for that and while Monica took her turn at comforting her brother, I started to notice a very subtle but important change.

In the years before, every time Ross broke up with a girl I had felt glad somehow. Glad that there was a chance for us to be together again. Glad that another girl had failed to take my place in Ross' heart.

Some soul searching later I couldn't find any trace of those feelings left in me. I just felt genuinely sorry for Ross having to go through yet another failed relationship. I found myself hoping sincerely that one of these days, he would find a woman who loves him the way he is, with all the history he brings with him. A woman happy to build that kind of life with him he always wanted.  
A woman who very certainly isn't going to be me.

This thought was more liberating than I could've imagined. It freed me to think about which hopes I had for myself.

I too, want to find the one true love.  
Unwittingly the image of Joey popped into my head. This was my moment of clarity.  
I've already found it.

I recalled every moment Joey and I shared over the past six weeks since I first kissed him and I found one consistency. There was always this aching in my heart, this suppressed realization that this was about more than just fulfilling a physical need.

And then there were the moments when I had to make a conscious effort to stop myself from naming those feelings right then and there.  
Like that time on the couch. Or that time when he came home from work later than I expected and I was nearly crazy with worry. He was so touched by the fact that I was worried and that I missed him that it was one of the very few times he kissed me first, one of the rare and precious moments when I felt like he might have feelings for me too.

Another one of those moments was the first time I felt Emma moving.  
He was so sweet, so gentle and so full of heartfelt wonder over the tiny miracle inside of me that I would've given everything to just be enveloped in his embrace like that for all eternity.

I can still feel the overwhelming happiness, the unbelievable joy of hearing Joey say 'I love you' right next to my ear. I can still feel the bottomless disappointment of realizing he wasn't talking to me. Guess it proves how much of a bad mother I am gonna be that I was actually jealous of my own child.

Back then I felt the need to run away from him, from the emotions he evoked in me, but he didn't let me go.

And then he basically told me that I could come to him whenever I wanted to sleep with him. I think he was trying to do me a favor. Offering something that went against everything he believes in and everything he feels because he thought this was what I needed from him.

I suppose I should've said something to this offer. I should have told him that I don't want to just have sex with him, that I want so much more than that, things he wasn't willing or maybe even capable to offer. I should have made it clear that I don't want this to be a dirty little affair no one must know about.

I should have at least told him that even if it were just about sex, it would make me feel horrible to always be the one who had to ask.  
I should have left, taking my last scraps of dignity with me.

But I didn't. I wasn't able to.

He was kissing my neck and his hands were everywhere on my body and it felt so good that I thought that nothing could be worse than not being with him right now.

I was right and at the same time – I was wrong.

Having to ask was a nightmare.  
It's not like I had to issue an engraved invitation or something, I didn't need to spell it out for him. Sometimes I started kissing him, sometimes I just took his hand and led him into his room, sometimes I touched him and looked at him a very certain way and he always knew what I wanted. He never made me ask twice.

But it still felt like I was lowering myself to a level of neediness I would usually be ashamed of. It felt like taking something that was given out of pity not out of genuine interest in me.

Therefore I tried to put up a fight against my needs every time they awakened. To no avail whatsoever. I've never won.

However, I was always rewarded for my defeat with quite memorable sexual experiences, extraordinarily intense and passionate. The most exhilarating moments in our encounters were the ones when I managed to break through the underlying resistance I could always sense in him, when I made him lose control, when I could start to delude myself that he wanted this as much as I did.  
I've never failed to bring him to that point.

Joey never failed to bring me to the point where the world around me faded into insignificance, where nothing else mattered but the two of us, where I felt worshipped ... and loved.

Maybe I am delusional. Maybe I am trying to see things that aren't there but sometimes ... sometimes I was so convinced to see what I feel for him reflected in his eyes.

To be honest, most of the time I saw a lot of other emotions, none of them even remotely happy or joyful.  
I saw confusion and guilt, sadness and anger and I knew it was all my fault.

The way he looked at me when it was over haunts me. This look of sadness and disappointment always made me leave his bed as quickly as possible. There was no way I would've been able to hold it together if he would've confronted me with these emotions right after making love. I yearned for some time to pretend, for some real intimacy, for content smiles and sweet nonsense murmured in my ear, for falling asleep in the safety of his arms.

When I realized I am in love with Joey, the hope I could have all this and so much more was wrapping itself around me like a warm blanket, shielding me from everything harsh and cold.

Obviously, it was mostly shielding me from seeing the truth that I discovered when I came back with Ross from the coffee house, happy and hopeful.

The truth is, Joey doesn't return my feelings – at all.

Because regardless of who my baby's father is, if Joey would love me, we could have found a way to let Ross be more involved while still living together.

If he'd love me, he wouldn't have thought me moving out is a good idea.

But if he is only a friend and never will be more than that, he may be right. In this case, it might be better for all of us when I'm living at Ross'. Maybe after the baby is born the whole crazy pregnancy hormones thing is going away and everything will be back to normal.

Gee, who am I kidding. This is not about hormones. This is about me having feelings for Joey. I seriously doubt that they're just gonna go away. As experience proves, it is never that painless.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It is pitch black in the apartment. I'm standing in front of Joey's closed door and argue with myself about going in.

Yes, it hurts that he wants me to move out, but he was trying to do what he thought is right for Ross, the baby and in the end, me. I can hardly hold that against him. And yes, he was distant the whole time Ross helped me packing and moving my stuff, but maybe this isn't easy for him either and I know he's like that when he feels vulnerable.

I want to be with Joey in my last night in this apartment. I want to have sex, I want to feel the overwhelming passion he never fails to ignite in me and I want to spend the night in his bed if he'll let me. Maybe there is still a chance that if I tell him what I feel, he'll let me stay with him.

I open the door and am surprised that he's still awake. He's lying on his bed fully clothed and is reading what appears to be a DOOL script. When he hears me come in he places it on the nightstand and looks at me with an odd expression.

"What do you want, Rachel?" he asks in a tone so cold it makes me shiver. And now I can also place the expression on his face. It is totally void of emotion, something I never saw on him before.

The sense of impending doom that is slowly crawling up inside of me leaves me speechless for a while. I sit down on the bed beside him and notice him trying to put some distance between us.

"I thought … since this is my last night here … that … that we would…you know …spend it together."

He is smirking. He is actually smirking at me right now.

"Was that what you were really thinking, Rachel?" he says leaning towards me a bit in an almost threatening manner.  
"Because I'm quite sure you were thinking something along the lines of coming over to have sex with me one last time."

Of course that is partially right but I don't understand why he is suddenly such a jerk about it.

"You know what, babe? It's not gonna happen. It's never gonna happen again and I can't even begin to tell you how relieved I am about that."

A sharp pain slices through me.  
I know that pain. I felt it first when Gunther told me about Ross and the girl from the copy shop. It's the pain you feel when someone breaks your heart.

And they're not right. The first cut isn't the deepest. This one hurts much more because he does it intentionally. He didn't make a stupid mistake and he isn't even sorry. He wants to hurt me. I can't believe I misjudged him so completely.

I hate myself for crying because I don't want him to see what he did to me but I can't help it.

"Save the tears Rachel. It isn't that bad. I'm sure Ross will be more than happy to fill in for me in the future."

That's it. Somehow I find it in me to swing my fist at him and punch him so hard, his head snaps to the side.  
He slowly turns his unfeeling gaze back to me, gingerly touching his bruised jaw and smirks again.

"You can hit me all you want, Rachel. But I'm not gonna be your fuck buddy anymore."

I welcome the fury that these words ignite in me. It's better to be mad than to be heartbroken. The anger makes me want to hurt him too.

"I hate you," I say through gritted teeth and run out of his room, suddenly needing to get as much distance as possible between him and me.

xxx

My tears are almost blinding me as I throw the rest of my stuff that is still here into my bag.  
His words echo in my head, lifting up the level of anger and pain that I feel with every repeat.

Fuck buddy.

I can't believe that this is what he thinks that was. I can't believe I've spent endless hours agonizing over my feelings for him when this is all it ever was for him.  
A service, something he is actually glad not to have to provide anymore.

Something he thinks I would let any other man do for me as well. It is devastating to realize how embarrassingly low his opinion of me is. I silence the nagging little voice inside of my head that tells me I didn't give him much reason to think otherwise. Because that would mean it is my fault.

It isn't my fault, he is the unfeeling and insensitive idiot, who doesn't know the first thing about me. Who doesn't know I would never go to a guy just for sex. Who doesn't realize how much I love him.

Loved him – past tense. It's over. I'm glad it's over. It was only hurting me anyway.

I put on the clothes I had already picked out for tomorrow and head out of the apartment. I would like to slam the door shut behind me but refrain from doing so for the sake of Monica and Chandler's sleep. I can't stand the thought of spending one more minute under the same roof as this heartless bastard.

xxxx

tbc


	6. Chapter 5 Joey

A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I appreciate every comment on the story. Even if it's already complete, nothing is set in stone so if you have any suggestions or if you see any mistakes, feel free to let me know.

* * *

**Chapter Five - Joey**

Three months later

They dragged me to the hospital today.

Rachel's water broke a few hours ago and Monica and Chandler insisted that we all go to the hospital to wait for the arrival of young Miss Green.

I really want to be as excited as everyone else is but I can't. Not that I'm not excited that Rachel's baby is being born. I was looking forward to this day since I first felt her kicking against my hands.  
But that means I have to talk to Rachel again, I have to congratulate her to the birth of her baby, knowing that she hates my guts.

The last three months have to be the most horrible time I ever had to live through.

First I tried destroying stuff which actually helped for a while. Especially throwing ketchup bottles against the bathroom door proved to be somewhat of a distraction.  
I gave up on that after I cut my fingers a few times while cleaning up the mess.

Then I thought since it works for a lot of people I know, I should start drowning my sorrows in alcohol. Turns out, my stomach might be able to deal with food of every kind – and age – but it isn't able to deal with the amount of alcohol one needs to actually stop hurting.

After the alcohol fiasco I turned to the thing I already knew. Dating. Or to name what I really had in mind – sleeping around. It always helped me to get my mind off things that were troubling me.

That one backfired big time.

Getting girls to go on a date with me was the easy part – as it always was.  
When we were having dinner and they were yammering on and on about all the completely boring stuff girls like to dump on the men they go out with, I entertained myself by comparing them to Rachel. Which for some reason came across as me being a good listener.

By the time dinner was over, I wasn't even interested in having sex anymore. The first few times I made the mistake of telling them that I just came out of a relationship in which I got my heart broken and that I'm not ready yet to take any serious steps with any woman so soon. Which should have sent them running but didn't. It's weird, if you're interested, they're not; if you tell them you are emotionally unavailable, they're all over you.

So more often than not I found myself sitting on some couch in some apartment making out with some woman whose name I had a hard time remembering.  
I actually got yelled at a few times for calling them Rachel.

Worst thing was, nothing was happening. I mean to me. I wasn't even the tiniest bit excited. Not that I was expecting to have with some random woman what I had with Rachel, but there was just nothing going on down there.  
Which was especially frustrating in the light of the fact that I always had to make sure I had the seat at the table in the coffee shop so I could hide my completely inappropriate bodily reaction to Rachel's mere presence.

I even went so far as to imagine Rachel while being with other women but that didn't work either. Everything about them threw me off, their smell, their taste, the noises they made.

I couldn't go through with it one single time.

Back when everything was still okay with me and the world, I had to make up excuses for leaving girls right **after** we had sex, now I was making them up to be able to leave with my dignity intact **before** anything happened. I found that to be so embarrassing I didn't even tell Chandler about it.

I tried for the longest time to make that work. I can't imagine myself living in celibacy for the rest of my life.  
But when I realized that I started despising the women who went out with me, I gave up on dating for the time being. It would have been totally unfair to drag girl after girl into my screwed up life, only to hate them for not being the woman I really wanted to be with.  
If there is a woman out there destined to take Rachel's place in my heart, I suppose she has to find me by other means.

So since I didn't tell Chandler what was really going on with me, he was obviously convinced I was successful in moving on from my tragically doomed relationship with the mysterious woman. He even tried to talk to me about 'her' a few times but I always managed to give the conversation a different direction.  
Unfortunately, the topic of my seemingly exciting love life always tended to come up when Rachel was in the same room.

'Hey Joey, how was the date? Hey Joe, did you get lucky yesterday with Whatshername? Joy, anything interesting about the girl you went out with last night?'

I tried to dodge the issue somehow, but since I couldn't say that nothing interesting happened with those girls ever, I gave the impression that I 'got lucky' almost every night.  
Rachel did her best to appear unfazed, but I could tell how repulsed she was.

We both tried to hide what has been going on between us by some unspoken agreement. No need to have the truth come out now that it was over anyway.  
We still saw each other regularly at Monica's or at the coffee house, even if I had tried at first to avoid all places where I could run into her.  
We didn't talk directly to each other but we made a point to be civil, to acknowledge each others presence, to greet and to say 'please' and 'thank you'.

It was hard enough to do that much.

Besides the aforementioned sexual attraction, I always had to deal with the fact that she was almost always together with Ross. She snuggled up to him all the time, especially when she knew I was looking, he had his arm around her or was touching her belly constantly. Although Monica, when asked, claimed that there was nothing romantic going on between those two. But what did she know. They're lobsters after all.

On the subject of Rachel's belly, it drove me crazy not to be involved anymore. I know I had no business being involved in anything, but I had developed a connection to this pregnancy and to this baby. I was the first one to feel her kicking, I was the one who was there when Rachel had her first Braxton-Hicks contraction, I always knew how she was feeling and what was up with the baby. After she moved out I had to ask Monica if I wanted to know anything and I had to do even that with a lot of discretion to prevent her asking me why I don't ask Rachel.

And then there were the nights. The questions that went through my head over and over again when I was lying in my lonely bed.

If things could have been different. If I could have said or done something to prevent all this from happening.  
Thoughts of what would have happened if I had told her what I felt. Trying to pinpoint the moment when everything started to go downhill.  
But the one thing all of these thoughts and questions came back to was the fact that if she didn't feel for me what I feel for her, all of my wondering was pointless.

I still regret what I said to her, though. It pains me to know that I can be that much of an asshole if I want to. There is no excuse for what I said that night and I would be the last one to blame her if she wouldn't been able to forgive me for that for the rest of her life.

So I didn't say anything. As much as I sometimes wanted to, I never apologized, I never asked for her forgiveness.

She hates me now and she has every reason to. This thought is the hardest one to live with.

* * *

"Hey champ, what's up? Any dating experiences you want to share with your none dating because happily married best friend?" asks Chandler while slapping me on the back so hard I almost spill my coffee. Seriously, his interest in my sex life starts to become creepy. As does his sneaking up on me like that. Or maybe I was just zoning out again.

I already got into serious trouble at DOOL because I even stopped delivering my lines in the middle of shooting and just stared right ahead. I really have to pull myself together, I can't afford to lose this job.

"You're doing it again, Joe."

"What?"

"You're doing it again. Ignoring me, not answering questions, staring off into space."

"I do that?" If you don't want to explain yourself, play dumb. Always works for me.

"Oh please, don't tell me I'm the first one to notice."

Or not.

"Well I'm … I'm worried about Rachel. Because she is in there for like …an eternity."

Lying would be the second choice, although it **is** unusual that delivering a baby takes that long.

"Don't lie to me Joe."

So that didn't work either.

"Please Joey, I am your friend, I want to help. But you have to let me. You have to talk me."

"Do we have to do this now? And here?"

"Yes we do Joe, because I strongly believe this has something to do with Rachel and I think this should be cleared up between you two before she starts this new chapter of her life."

Panic grips my chest and I can't even breathe for a while. How did he find out? What does he know? Guess I'm about to find that out.

"Why do you think it has something to do with Rachel?"

"Because ever since she moved in with Ross, you two barely speak to one another. We don't even make fun of you anymore because we're afraid, you will be at each others throats at the slightest provocation."

"Did everyone notice that?"

"Well, Ross was a bit wrapped up in his happy family life lately, but Phoebe, Monica and I sure did."

"Have you talked to Rachel about that?"

"No, I'm talking to you. What is the matter, Joey?"

I put my face in my hands and try to come up with an explanation that won't uncover the whole truth.

Chandler pats my back comfortingly. "You know you can tell me everything, right? It can't be that bad."

"It is bad … she hates me."

"Why?"

"I was an ass the day she moved out."

"Why?"

"She sort of didn't want to go and I was convinced, I'm still convinced it was the right thing to do so ..."

"So?"

"I pushed her away."

"How?"

"I said some very mean things to her so she would want to move out and never come back."

That is as close to the truth as I can get and maybe this is all Chandler needs to know. It explains everything and is more or less what happened.

"What did you say?"

"I … I... I sort of told her I'm glad I don't have to live with her anymore."

Chandler looks horrified and that wasn't even the really bad part of what I said.

"No wonder she hates you."

"Well, thanks a lot Chandler, that really did help."

"No, no wait Joey. I'm sorry … I was just …I guess I didn't really believe it could be that bad."

This is not helping either.  
I slump back against the chair closing my eyes.

"Well, I know how confused you were back then because of that girl trouble you had, it's no wonder you snapped at Rachel too."

"That's no excuse."

"Look Joey, even if you were doing something wrong, you did it for the right reasons. You weren't trying to hurt her."

"But I did."

"Yes you did. Shit happens. What did she say when you tried to apologize?"

"I didn't."

"You **what**?"

"I didn't try to apologize."

"**Why not!** And … more importantly .. **why NOT!"**

"Geez, Chandler, there are other people around here!" I shush him.

"Joey I … I can't believe this. I always thought I was the one who is bad at this type of stuff. You were always the one who knew what's the right thing to do."

"I know that it would have been the right thing to do. But she is pregnant and she hates me and I didn't want to upset her anymore than I already did."

This sounds so lame, even to me.

"And you think seeing you all the time not knowing if you're even sorry is easier for her?"

I shake my head no. I really don't think that.

"Besides I don't think she hates you. She is mad at you, that's for sure but she doesn't hate you."

"What makes you think that?"

"She is still watching DOOL."

"She is crazy about soap operas. She watched that show before I was even in it."

"She was the first one to notice the cuts on your hands after the ketchup bottle incident."

All Chandler knows about the so called 'ketchup bottle incident' is that I was trying to invent a new game after 'fireball' lost its thrill.

"You know how nosy she is, of course she noticed."

"She was always asking me stuff about you. Always in this roundabout way so I wouldn't notice she was even asking. Similar to the way you're always asking Monica about her."

These two are a match made in heaven. Why do they have to talk about stuff like that? Don't they have better things to do? But wait …

"She asked about me?"

"All the time."

Does that really mean she doesn't hate me? It would be too good to be true.

"Joey, you have to tell her you're sorry."

"Yes, yes you're right. I'm gonna do it," I say standing up.

"Well, I wouldn't do it while she is in labor."

Yeah, he might be right about that too.

"Try to get a few minutes with her alone. Be honest. Tell her what you told me. I'm sure she will forgive you. She has other things to worry about now than some crazy ex roommate."

When the hell did Chandler stop sucking at relationship stuff? Must've been around the time he got married.

"Thanks man," I say moving in for a manly hug.

We sit there hugging for a while when an unfamiliar female voice says,

"Aww look at you two! Are you guys going to have a baby?"

I know Chandler is gonna hate me for this but the young nurse looks so genuinely happy for us, I don't want to disappoint her. I put my arm around him and declare proudly,

"Yes we are."

And in a way this isn't even a lie. We all are going to have a baby around soon and then I will have to apologize.

* * *

I waited outside Rachel's hospital room for hours. When we learned that Rachel's daughter had finally made her way into this world, I asked Chandler to tell Rachel that I would be there later. I wanted to wait until I could have some time with her alone. Which turned out to be a long wait since Ross refuses to leave Rachel's side. 

Why is there never a dinosaur emergency when you need one?  
Guess I'll have to ask him to give us a few minutes.

I knock at the door to Rachel's room and Ross calls for me to come in.

Ross beams at me. "Hey Joey, we've waited for you. Chandler said there were some problems on the DOOL set?"

"Yeah, there were. They needed me to re-shoot a scene. And congratulations," I say shaking his hand.

"Thanks man, but Rachel here did all the work. She was amazing. I mean 27 hours is a lot of time to be in unbearable pain."

After stealing a glance at Rachel who tries her best to look anywhere but directly at me, I look back at Ross.  
"Uhm Ross, would you mind giving us a few minutes? I want to talk to Rachel for a sec, is that okay?"

Rachel looks up nervously.

"Of course it is. Rachel, honey, if you don't mind I want to go grab a bite in the cafeteria. I really start to feel like I haven't eaten in a while. Joey here will keep you company, alright?"

Rachel nods slightly. "Alright."

I can sense that she is extremely uncomfortable, but I'm glad that she's giving me the chance to talk to her alone.

Ross then proceeds to say some nonsense to the baby in Rachel's arm and eventually makes his way out of the door.

I take a seat next to Rachel's bed facing the door. No need to have someone dropping by while we discuss things only the two of us know about.  
After running a hand through my hair a few times I take a deep breath and start speaking.

"Rachel I came to apologize. I wanted to tell you how terribly sorry I am for what I said to you that night. I know this is about three months too late for that but I just couldn't find the courage to do it sooner. I don't expect you to forgive me but I wanted you to know that I am sorry. And of course I want to tell you how happy I am for you and Ross and … your daughter."

"Emma"

"What?"

"Her name is Emma," she says, smiling a little.

"Emma," I repeat, looking at the little bundle in her arms. The baby looks rosy and doesn't even have the typical wrinkly skin most newborns have. My nephew Michael was so ugly when he was born, I actually felt bad for him.

"She's beautiful," I say more to myself than to her.

"Yeah, she's the most beautiful baby I ever saw."

"She's got that from her mother."

As soon as these words leave my mouth I wish I could take them back. Not that they're not true but I didn't come here to charm her into forgiving me.

"It hurt, you know. A lot."

"Yeah, my mother always said to my sister that labor is the hardest thing she'd ever have to do."

"No … I mean, yes, that hurt too. But it was worth it. The result justified the pain. No ... I meant what you said. It hurt a lot. I never would have thought you would be capable …," she trails of.

I hang my had in shame. "Neither would I Rachel ...neither would I."

"Then why? I really want to understand that, Joe. Why?"

This is what I was afraid of. I knew Rachel wouldn't just accept an apology, not asking for an explanation. How much can I tell her without letting her figure out things she doesn't need to know right now? Things she'll never need to know?

"Rachel, I know that still sounds mean but I couldn't live like that anymore. I had to end it, it was turning me into someone I didn't want to be, it was killing me."

"You said it was okay, that it might work."

"It didn't, Rach. Not for me. I felt like I was living someone else' life. It felt like I was taking something away from Ross that I hadn't any right to have. And I don't just mean you. I mean … her. You said yourself he could be as involved as he wanted and he obviously wanted to be involved as much as possible. I had no right to keep him from that."

She seems to think about that for a while. It is the truth, even if it's not all of it.

"Let's say you were right. That doesn't explain … anything. That doesn't explain what you said. I can't understand why you felt the need to hurt me so bad."

"I really loved … living with you, Rachel, you have to believe that. But I had to make that cut. So …"

"So?"

"So I thought I should make you want to move out."

Truth is, yes I wanted to push her away so she would want to move out but I also knew that if we would've spend that night together, I wouldn't have been able to let her go.

"You've got that one done."

"I know and I'm sorry."

"So you felt bad about it?"

"Yes, of course I did. From the moment you ran out of my door. It was wrong and mean and cruel. I shouldn't have …."

"Okay, okay, Joey. I forgive you."

For a moment I can only stare disbelieving at her and then I feel an overwhelming rush of relief at the thought that we put that behind us.

"Thank you Rachel. You don't knowhow muchthat means to me. I really thought I'd lost you. So ...are we friends again?"

She looks at me with the oddest expression on her face. Then she quickly shakes her head as if she just chased away some weird thought. "Yes, yes of course. We're friends again."

I want to be happy. I will be. Once I have buried my love for her so deeply I will never feel it again.

While I try to be happy about us being friends again, Rachel coos at Emma who apparently just woke up.

"Joey, do you want to hold her for a while?"

"Of course I do!"

This really makes me happy. Not just that she trust me with her baby, but the fact that I get to say 'Hi' to the child I love since the day I first felt her presence.

Rachel looks a bit surprised that I'm quite capable of taking the baby from her and holding it in my arms the way I'm supposed to.

"I wasn't only around for Gina's pregnancy, you know."

She just smiles.

Emma looks up at me with big, somewhat unfocused, blue eyes. I wave at her a little.

"Hi Emma, remember me? I'm uncle Joey. We talked a few times when you were still inside of your mommy."

I gingerly touch her face and am awed by how soft her skin is. Then I lift one of her little fists up with my index finger, marveling at the delicacy of these tiny little hands.  
How can something so small already be this perfect?

Suddenly Emma opens her hand and grabs my finger, holding onto it really tight. I know it is just a reflex but in this moment it feels like it means so much more. Like she is trusting me, like she really knows who I am and that I love her.  
In this moment I promise her silently to be there for her whenever she needs me, to never let her down, to love and protect her as if she were my own.

"Love you," I whisper.

"Looks like you two are friends already."

I look up a bit puzzled to hear Ross' voice. Apparently he came in while I was busy staring at the beautiful baby in my arms.

Emma seems to be done being looked at and starts wailing.

"Oh, come to mommy, sweetheart, dinner time."

This is my cue to leave. The last thing I need to see right now are Rachel's breasts. I place the crying baby into Rachel's arms and make my way to the door.

"Well it's dinner time for uncle Joey, too. See you guys later," I say and all but run out of the room, not looking back.

xxxxxxxxx

tbc


	7. Chapter 6 Rachel

**Chapter Six - Rachel**

a few days later

Friends. He wants to be friends again. It's been almost a week and I still can't muster the slightest bit of enthusiasm at that idea. If anything, I'm disappointed.

Yes, I am glad he apologized. I'm glad he tried to explain why he suddenly turned into this jackass. I'm glad I finally know he was sorry about that for most of the time I was mad at him. And I was honest about forgiving him. How can I not forgive him?

On some level I always knew that he felt guilty about what we were doing. I knew it wasn't working for him. But I held onto it in the hope he might develop feelings for me too, that one day he might start feeling okay with it. I held onto it because I knew I would never experience what I had with him with anyone else, and I wasn't ready to let him go. I was selfish – again – and he was hurting so he lashed out at me, I can see that now. It doesn't make what he said any less painful, but it makes me understand that I can't blame everything on him.

What still irritates me, what I still think he is wrong about is that it was the right thing for me to move in with Ross.

And yes, I know everybody thinks it was. I heard that from every single one of them. Repeatedly.

But to be perfectly honest, the only one whom I think this was a good thing for was Ross.  
Even Joey uses Ross as his only argument when it comes to this. 'Ross isn't involved, Ross misses all the baby stuff, you should live with the father'

You can call me selfish but I don't think Ross' happiness justifies making two people unhappy. And no, I didn't forget someone here. I am talking about me and Emma.

Emma was loved where she was. I needed one look at Joey when he held her to know that he was honest when he said he loved her. He does. And for a child this is everything that counts.  
If an unborn child is really as perceptive to its mothers moods and emotions as the books say, moving in with Ross was bad for Emma too. Because her mother was almost always sad and unhappy, moody and discontented, mad at her baby's father for not being the man she loved and mad at the man she loved for not loving her back.

When I think about it, this it what it really comes down to. I can't forgive Joey for one thing and that is not loving me back. And he can't apologize for that because it's not his fault and sadly enough, he doesn't even know about this.

I guess this is the reason why I was so disappointed after we talked. Maybe I am still expecting him to drop on his knees in front of me one of these days and declare his undying love for me.

Yeah, like that will ever happen.

He moved on.

Not that there was anything for him to move on from, but if there were, one could safely say he moved on.

Chandler and Joey seemed to use every available situation to talk about Joey's adventures with what seemed like at least a half of the female population of New York City.  
When I thought he went on a lot of dates before, after I moved out there were so many girl's names flying around, I could hardly keep track of them so I wouldn't accidentally name my daughter after one of his conquests. I can't even begin to describe how jealous I was that he was chasing after complete strangers to have sex with them, when I would have been perfectly willing to have sex with him every night.

Guess I'm not what he is looking for. I suppose he isn't even looking for someone special. Joey Tribbiani is just not that kind of guy. Another thing I always knew about him but for some reason can't convince my heart to accept.

Sometimes, when I'm not too busy wading knee deep in self pity, I think I am a bit unfair to Ross. Well, a lot - actually.

Ross was great the whole time - he still is. He endured my increasingly bad mood with a calm I sometimes envied.  
He took care of buying most of the baby stuff and getting a place for everything in his apartment since at first I couldn't even muster the energy to careof any of that.

When all the other expecting mothers in my Lamaze-class Ross attended with me regularly practically had no other topic than diaper-genies and baby clothes and what would be the best breast pump, I was moping over my screwed up love life.

Ross did his best to cheer me up. Instead of watching the discovery channel with me like I was afraid he would do all the time, he rented silly comedies. He made an effort not to talk too much about babies or giving birth and all the stuff that I know he would have loved to talk about, because he apparently figured this was what I was so upset about.

He coached me through God knows how many hours of labor with this combination of patience, genuine caring and goofiness that I always loved in him.

He had tears in his eyes when he held Emma for the first time. I know he loves her and I know he will always be there for her, whatever it takes.  
I saw him with Ben all this years, there is no doubt in my mind he will be a great father.

He is. He is trying to help with Emma as much as he can, he gives her bathes and he changes her diapers. At least he does that when he is not at work, which he ismost of the day. But that's not a problem since Emma is a really easy kid. She sleeps almost all the time and breastfeeding worked without any problems from the first day on.

I have no idea what all the fuss is about that taking care of a baby is so hard. It's not hard at all, I have a lot of free time on my hands every day.

When Ross comes home I let him usually take his time with Emma, then I feed her and let Ross put her to bed.  
Afterwards we watch TV or talk about his day. I never would have thought the two us could be like this together. Just two friends hanging out.

It wasn't like this at first.

Ross and I hadn't really lived together in the past and we had a bit of trouble adjusting to that.  
Well, I had because I didn't really want to live with him in the first place. But since I couldn't go back to the man who broke my heart, I eventually made peace with dinosaur fossils in the bathroom and the fact thatI wasn't allowed to throw wet paper towels.

I did some thinking about the man who broke my heart the first time around and decided to give him another chance. Okay, to be honest, I decided to prove to myself that my attraction to Joey was just that. A purely sexual attraction caused by pregnancy hormones going crazy.

I had to force myself not to think about what Joey would say to the fact that I really was trying to get Ross to 'fill in for him'.

So one evening when we were watching one of those rented tapes, I snuggled closer to Ross and on this cue he put his arm around me without even taking his eyes off the TV.

I put one of my arms around him and snuggled even closer. Nothing happened.

Since it worked so good on Joey the first time we slept together, I started kissing Ross' face and when he turned to ask me what the hell I was doing, I kissed him deep and passionate.

Unfortunately – or fortunately, now that I'm looking back at this – from then on things didn't progress the way they did with Joey. Ross kissed me back for a while but then drew away putting his arms around me, drawing me to his chest.

"Rachel, honey, don't do this. Remember, we both didn't want this to be anything romantic. We both didn't want to go there again."

I put up a bit of fight to get free of his tight embrace, but secretly I was glad he stopped me. I still shudder at the thought of what kind of mess this would have gotten us into.

Or what great development I would've missed.

"We are going to have a baby, Ross. Shouldn't we at least try again?"

He let me out of his arms then and looked at me very seriously.

"Are you still in love with me, Rachel?"

"I love you, Ross." I said truthfully. And this is what I feel. I love him, he is my best friend, the man I have so many great and loving memories of, the father of my child. I'll always love him.

"But …"

When I looked up at Ross I saw him looking at me encouragingly. As if he wanted me to come to this conclusion myself. Maybe it was this moment I truly realized for the first time that he was over me. That he didn't love me anymore and that I couldn't hurt him by telling him what I was about to.

"... but I'm not in love with you anymore."

He lifted his hand and caressed my face while he said,

"Then why should we try again, Rachel? If we're not in love anymore, all we would do is to hurt us both. And … and the baby."

When I didn't speak, because tears were already burning in the back of my throat again, he continued, "But I promise, you won't have to do this alone. I will always … always be there for you and her. Even if I find someone new, even if one day – and I'm starting to believe this isn't gonna happen anyway – I have the family I always wanted, I will always be there for you. I swear."

I rested my head against his chest again and cried quietly into his shirt for a while.

"I wish I would've given you another chance back then."

In this moment, I really wished that. It would have made things so much easier – everything. But I guess Ross was right with what he said next.

"You have no idea for how long I wished the same thing. But now I think that maybe this is the way it was supposed to be. Not that I'm not sorry about breaking your heart like that, I am, there will never be a thing I'll be more sorry about, but maybe we would've run into other problems in the future. Maybe we weren't meant to be together."

Listing to Phoebe for years now had make me believe in things like that.

"But you loved me since the ninth grade. We're lobsters."

He chuckles a bit at that.

"Yeah we are. Look at us – who would argue we are lobsters? We are together, forever bound to each other by the baby you're carrying. Maybe being lobsters doesn't mean being lovers."

That didn't convince me at all.

"And yes, I loved you since the ninth grade. Or to be honest, I had a crush on you. You were this unattainable princess every boy dreams about. I'm convinced I wasn't the only guy who felt that way about you. But Rachel, we're both not the people anymore we were back then. Back then I wanted to be a rock star. I played 'my music', remember? You wanted to marry Mr. Perfect and lead a perfect little life. Do you still want that?"

"Well, I want to get married sometimes. But you're right. I'm not that girl anymore. I think I'm not even that girl anymore who fell in love with you."

"I feel the same thing, Rachel. You're not the girl I fell in love with either and I would've realized that sooner or later. We both would have."

He was right. And it felt like there was a heavy weight lifted from my shoulders when I realized that he was letting me go, that I could let him go without losing him.

"I forgive you," I said after a few minutes of silence. "I forgive you for breaking my heart, for sleeping with that girl. I know I made mistakes, too. I know that you're not the only one responsible for breaking up our relationship."

I could hear his breath hitching at my words, I could feel him shake and I knew that he was crying. I didn't look up and I didn't try to comfort him because I knew his tears came from the same relief I had felt a few moments earlier.

When the shaking subsided a bit I looked into his eyes again. He was smiling.  
"Thank you Rachel."  
He touched my face again wiping away the wet trails my tears from before had left.  
"I love you. I always will."

Something compelled me to touch his face too, to brush my fingertips against the lips I had kissed so many times.

"I love you too, Ross."

And then we kissed. It was a long, sweet and lingering kiss, burdened with all the hurt feelings, the dashed hopes and broken promises that were standing between us.  
But at the same time it was light with the promise of a better future, a future without guilt and regrets, a future where we both would be free of the lost love between us, free to love our child and free to love someone else, where we both would be friends again, where we would have finally left our past behind us.

This kiss was our Goodbye – and our Hello.

Everything had changed between us since that night. For the better.  
It felt like we were both on the same page again.

I started to share his excitement for the birth of our baby, instead of comedies we watched tapes of women giving birth (not recommended for expecting mothers), old videotapes of Ross and Monica in the pool (hilarious) and tapes of Ross' and Chandler's first steps on the way to superstardom (side splittingly funny).

We talked a lot, not only about the near future that would undoubtedly revolve around the baby, but about the plans we had afterwards.

"When do you want to start to go to work again?", asked Ross one evening.

"I was thinking when the baby is about six months old."

"We would need to look for a nanny soon. Carol told me how much trouble it is to find a good nanny these days."

"My mother already gave me the numbers of a few girls she thinks would be great, maybe we should start with them."

Ross seems to be deep in thought for a while and then asked tentatively, "How long do you think are we going to live together?"

"You're already sick of having me around?", I teased him playfully.

"No, no of course not Rachel. I didn't want it to sound like that. I meant…"

"Easy, easy Ross, I was just kidding. I know what you meant."

But since he was so easy I couldn't resist.  
"Want to know when you can start bringing all your hot dates home again, huh?"

He started defending himself before seeing me grin.  
"What makes you think I will be the first one bringing home the hot dates?"

All I could do was not to flinch at this question that had hit exactly the sore spot.  
Ross noticed my discomfort immediately.

"Or is there already someone you like?"

I started busying myself with rearranging the science magazines on the coffee table.

"There is. You're blushing," he smiled triumphantly.

"I'm not blushing, it is just so hot in here."

"Come on, spill it Rachel, who is it? Someone I know?"

"I'm not gonna tell, Ross. Besides, nothing's gonna happen. It's a lost cause."

"Oh come on, honey. Honestly. Who could **you** not get?"

This moment was the closest I ever came to tell Ross everything. Joey's name almost burned a hole into my tongue. I realized just a few seconds before everything would have poured out of me that nothing good could come from telling Ross.

He probably would've gotten mad at Joey. He would've talked to him and it wouldn't have been a friendly talk and then everything would've been messed up beyond repair. Not just for Joey and me, for everyone.  
I couldn't do that to them again. Not after almost forcing them to takes sides between me and Ross. I learned my lesson.

So instead of answering Ross, I tried to change the subject.

"Regardless of who of us brings home the hot dates first, how do we handle the situation if and when it arises?"

"I think it would be awkward to have someone else here as long as we still live together."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. So we can't start dating again until I move out."

"We can date, but we can't bring someone over here."

"Which, especially for you, since you're the guy, is totally impractical. So, I will have to move out fairly soon, since I think the girls are lining up already", I teased him good natured.

"Hey, stop making fun of me! Not everyone can have somebody already waiting."

"Ross, I told you, there isn't anyone. And he's certainly not waiting."

"If he's smart, he should."

"Will you just leave this alone already?"

Since it didn't look as if he would, I tried to change the subject again.  
"Do you think you will be okay with Emma and me moving out? I mean you were really into moving in with me if I remember correctly."

"I wanted to be there for you for all of this, because believe me, it's gonna be hard. But it will get easier again and you won't need to have me around so much anymore. And I think this will be around the time when we both will start to think again about seeing someone."

"When do you think this will be?"

"From what I now, around the time you want to start to go to work again. Do you think you will be okay with living alone? I mean, you never have before."

No I haven't and I certainly didn't want to, but back then I was facing the ugly truth that I would have to eventually.  
But I couldn't give the impression that it was a problem, so I put on a brave face and said, "Yes, it will be okay. It will be new, but it will be okay."

Ross seemed to have sensed that this wasn't quite the whole truth. He put his hands on my shoulders and looked at me seriously, as if he wanted me to understand very clearly what he was about to say.

"I just want you to know that there is no pressure whatsoever, Rachel. You can stay here as long as you want. Even if one of us has someone again, we will have to keep to certain rules, but we will make it work. Okay? I didn't mean to make you feel unwelcome."

I stepped into his embrace and leaned my face against his chest.

"I don't feel unwelcome, Ross. I really don't."

We stayed like this for a while, we actually hugged a lot in those times before Emma was born. I still needed the physical assurance of not being alone.  
But with Ross, there wasn't any trace of anything sexual about it. We were just friends.

And I never needed a good friend more than in those times before Emma was born.

Every time I saw Joey I needed someone to cling to, someone to draw strength from. Although I never told Ross a thing about what had happened between Joey and me, he seemed to feel that I needed to be close to him every time Joey was there.

Seeing Joey made the pain of his betrayal cut through me like a knife. At the same time, seeing him made me want to throw myself into his arms and forget everything that happened.

I know these feelings from the time I broke up with Ross. The rage at him, the pain of being hurt like this, the urge to make everything go away, to make everything the way it was before.

Only this time, it was a hundred times worse. Because I couldn't tell anyone. Because I couldn't yell at him and hurt him the way he'd hurt me. Because I had to pretend everything was alright.

When I broke up with Ross, I had the pictures in my head of him and that copy shop girl together in bed. They nourished my anger for a very long time, they actually helped me to get through this.

I've tried that. I've tried to picture Joey with all those women he was going out with. I've tried to recall his cruel smirk when he threw those nasty words at me. But instead of giving me the strength to get over him, all I ever felt was an overwhelming sense of loss.

Now everything has changed – again.

I hadn't lost him. I'm not mad at him anymore. We're friends again.

If only this would be enough for me.

xxxxxxxxx

tbc


	8. Chapter 7 Joey Part 1

**Chapter Seven - Joey** **- Part 1**

Six weeks later

Breakfast at Monica's is as opulent as ever. Bagels, toast, jam, pancakes, omelets, coffee.

There is one thing missing, though. Rachel's not here.

The empty seat on the table indicates where Rachel usually sits when the four of us have breakfast together. Sometimes Phoebe and Mike are there too, sometimes even Ross when he finds the time to come over.

It was really nice. Rachel usually came over after Ross had gone to work, with a peacefully sleeping Emma in the stroller.  
We had breakfast, we talked about stuff, we had fun. It felt as if nothing's changed.

It was in fact a lot better than before Emma was born, because Rachel and I seemed to know how to be around each other again.  
I am so glad we're trying to put everything behind us. Not that I am over her or something, but it has gotten easier to pretend I am.

Added benefit is that this way, I can see Emma a lot. She gets cuter every day. I think she even already smiled at me, which everyone denied because apparently, babies learn to smile only when they're eight weeks old.

Well, I knew what I saw. So it's just between Emma and me.

Rachel seems to excel at being a mother, which isn't really a surprise since she excels at everything. Emma is a delightfully easy kid, everything goes according to the book.

At least it did for the past six weeks.

A few days ago Rachel stopped having breakfast with us. At first she called and excused herself, saying that Emma didn't sleep well the night before and she want to get her checked by her pediatrician. Today, she didn't even call.

How am I supposed to enjoy my breakfast when she's not there?

"Mon, what is up with Rachel lately? She's never there anymore," I complain while chewing on my bagel without much appetite.

"In case you haven't noticed, Joey, she has a baby. And don't speak with food in your mouth."

"But Emma never prevented her from coming over before!" Great, now I am really sounding like the sulking four year old, Monica treats me as.

"Emma isn't a newborn anymore and sleeps almost all day and through most of the night. It was really naïve of Rachel – and you – to expect it would be that easy forever."

Man, Monica sounds like she is glad Rachel is in trouble with her child. Although she is right about one thing, it couldn't be that easy.  
If having seven sisters is good for one thing, it is learning what taking care of a baby is like. And yeah, not easy – at all.

"So we're just standing by, letting her deal with this on her own?" I ask accusingly. "While we sit around here having fun?"

"Joey that isn't fair!", interrupts Chandler.

"Monica has only this few hours in the morning before she has to go to the restaurant where she works until late at night almost every day. I have to go to work too, as does Ross. We're doing what we can but Rachel **has** to deal with this mostly on her own because we can't be there for her all the time."

My chair falls to the floor with a loud thud, when I jump up.

"I will help her."

I take a clean plate, put some of the things on it Rachel likes to have for breakfast.

"Joey, you have to go to work too, remember. The whole being a soap opera star thing?"

"I have days off and the shooting is mostly in the afternoon. I can make time for Rachel and Emma, it's no problem."

With that I head out of the door.

This is definitely the time to prove what a promise from Joey Tribbiani is worth.

* * *

I can hear Emma wailing before I even knocked on the door to Ross's apartment. 

It takes Rachel a long time answering the door which gives me time to panic quietly because I haven't thought about what to say.

Maybe my offer to help her will seem like I don't think she is capable of taking care of her own child. Maybe …

Before I can start to list all the possibilities my offer might be received badly and thus going into full blown panic mode, the door opens and standing there is Rachel, a crying Emma on her shoulder, looking for a lack of a better word … horrible. Her hair hangs in greasy strands around her tired face, she has huge dark circles around her bloodshot eyes and I don't even wanna know what the stuff on her t-shirt is.

"Joey, now is a really bad time."

It is hard to even understand what she's saying over all the noise Emma makes. I've never heard her scream like this.

"I know, that's why I'm here."

Rachel looks puzzled but then motions for me to come in and I step into the apartment, closing the door behind me.

I put the plate with the food down on the coffee table and turn back to Rachel. "I brought you breakfast, courtesy of Chef Geller. Why don't you sit down and eat while I take the little siren here."

Rachel hands me the baby somewhat reluctantly and then plops down heavily onto the couch. "God, I'm starving."

And I am about to become deaf since Emma is howling right into my ear.

"What's up with her? Is she sick?"

"No," Rachel says while wolfing down her food, "Doctor says she's fine and that it's normal for babies her age to cry sometimes."

The last word comes with a gesture that clearly indicates that 'sometimes' isn't exactly how Rachel would put it.

"So she cries a lot?"

"Yeah and I don't know what to do about it anymore. I've changed her diapers, I tried to feed her like ten times an hour, I carry her around, I've even sang to her."

"Well that would've made me cry too," blurts out of me before I can stop it.

"Yeah you make fun of me. I haven't slept decently in what feels like a week, I can't shower, I can't eat – I'm a wreck. I guess I just suck at being a mother."

"Don't say that, you're a great mother. You just need someone who helps you out now and then."

"Ross helps as much as he can but he is only here for a few hours in the evening and for some reason, Emma is the most peaceful and good natured baby the world ever saw in those hours. I wish I could have only one night of uninterrupted sleep again."

"What about Ross, why doesn't he take care of her at night?"

"Well for one, I am the one with the breasts, and second, he has to go to work in the morning, I can't let him lose his sleep, since I am the one who is at home all day long."

Emma's crying has gotten a little less shrill but I have the strongest feeling that something is really bothering her. I shift her around a bit in my arms, trying something.

"Look Emma, mommy's having breakfast."

Rachel looks up alarmed. "Joey, you sure a baby should be held like this?"

"Why not? She can see a lot more this way and I have a hand on her belly so if she has a stomach-ache, the warmth and the pressure from my hand will help a bit. And listen – it works."

Thank God it does. I had no idea a crying baby could make you feel so helpless and frustrated. I'm starting to understand what Rachel's going through all the time.

"How do you know all that stuff about babies, Joey?"

"It might come as a shock to you, but I **can** read, Rachel."

"You've read baby books?"

"You forgot one at my place when you moved out, so I've read it."

Rachel's smile floods my heart with an unexpected warmth and I find myself smiling back at her.

"Thank you, Joey," Rachel says still smiling but then she suddenly looks down nervously and fidgets with the now empty plate. "For coming over and bringing me this."

"You're welcome."

When I look at Rachel rubbing her eyes, it strikes me again how tired she looks. I have to get her some time for herself, to catch some sleep. Or to shower. Or to do whatever she didn't do in a long time.

"Why don't you put Emma in her stroller and I go for a walk with her for a while? You can have some time for yourself and I'm sure Emma is going to be fine. What do you think?"

"I think that sounds great."

She takes Emma from me, which doesn't agree with Emma at all. She protests even louder when Rachel dresses her into a cute little jacket. The wailing stops only when she is all dressed up and I hold her again. Rachel shows me where the baby carriage is and I put Emma in it.  
Then she looks at me critically.

"You're not gonna use her to pick up girls, are you?" she asks only half joking.

I admit I deserved that one after the debacle with Ben on the bus.

"No…" I say rummaging through my wallet for a while before finding what I was looking for. "…because..." I slip the simple gold wedding band on my finger, "… I'm off the market."

Rachel frowns a bit and then grins widely. "Convincing," she admits.

"Yeah, isn't it? This way women stare at me all the time appraisingly since I'm apparently such a great guy, but I'm not in any danger that they will try anything."

The last words make me wince inside. I hope Rachel didn't catch up on my use of the word 'danger' in relation to get hit on by girls.

The reason I carry this ring around is pathetic enough. I used it during my horrible dating experiences to explain my early departure. I was the unhappy husband who was trying to cheat on his wife but couldn't go through with it because he was still in love with her. Good thing I'm an actor. Although it wasn't that much of a stretch to play.

* * *

I was walking around with Emma for about two hours before I decided to go back to the apartment. 

Emma had spent the first hour of our walk looking interested at the leaves fluttering in the wind and everything else in her field of vision. Then she got tired and after putting up an heroic fight against the heaviness in her eyelids, she fell asleep.

She's still sleeping but I didn't wanna risk having to walk around town with a hungry and crying baby, so I decided to go back. Rachel had given me the key to her apartment, so in case Rachel is still sleeping as well, I don't need to wake her up before Emma is awake.

The apartment is quiet and apparently Rachel did what I told her and didn't start cleaning up or something but went straight to bed.

I put down Emma into her bassinet careful to not wake her up. Then I make myself useful and start tidying up the place a bit.  
Just when I start looking for something else to do, Emma begins to get restless. I walk over to the bassinet and see her looking at me with her big round eyes.

"Hi sweety, had a nice nap?"

As if she wants to answer my question, Emma yawns but then proceeds to look rather unhappy.

"Oh, shhh, Emma, everything's alright, uncle Joey will take you out of there and we will see what's wrong, okay? No need to start screaming again. We don't want to wake up mommy, do we?"

Although I think Emma doesn't care much about her mother's sleep, she stays quiet when I pick her up and carry her over to her changing table.

After changing her diaper – which I managed surprisingly well, thanks to all the reading I did – I entertain her a while by carrying her around, but soon enough she starts to suck on her fingers hungrily which means that I'll have to wake up Rachel.

Rachel doesn't answer when I knock on her bedroom door so I just go in after waiting for a few moments.

She's still asleep. The wet towel in front of her bed probably means that she took a shower before she went to bed.

I kneel down beside her bed, staring at the sleeping beauty that is Rachel. It seems like an eternity ago that I was allowing myself to just look at her. To marvel at her beauty, to be awed by the perfect lines of her face. Good thing I need my hands to hold Emma, otherwise I wouldn't know how to fight to urge to touch her, to feel her skin, to bury my hand in her hair.

I suppose I could still kiss her.

Just when I start to seriously contemplate doing that, Emma lets out a high pitched cry that startles Rachel out of her sleep.  
Great, now I am looking like a freak, kneeling in front of her bed, holding her baby and staring at her like that.

"Rach I ... uhm … I was about to wake you up since Emma seems to be hungry."

Fortunately, Rachel is too groggy to notice my strange behavior and starts to get up, still half asleep.

"No, no Rach, don't get up. I've already changed Emma's diapers, you can feed her here in your bed, lying down."

"I've never tried that before."

"Well I think you should, it seems like a comfortable way to do it."

"Can't hurt to try," Rachel mumbles.

I place Emma beside her and turn around to go.

"Joey, wait."

"Yeah," I answer with my back still turned to her, because I don't think I could handle seeing her undress herself.

"Will you still be there when I'm done?"

"Yes, I was thinking about making something for lunch. Okay?"

"Sounds great."

I head out of her room and into the kitchen. In there I take a few deep breaths to get my emotions back under control.  
It's been more than four months now and only looking at her still reduces me to an emotional wreck.

* * *

Whoever is in charge of grocery shopping in the Geller-Green household does a lousy job. I've already put together a list of things I will have to buy in order to make this kitchen suitable for a Tribbiani. 

A pot of tomato soup is simmering on the stove and I found some slices of toast to go with that. I suppose I could have ordered take-out, but I somehow felt like cooking something for her.

"Joey," I hear Rachel calling from her room and I race back in there. "Joey, can you hold her for a while? I'm with you in a minute."

"Okay, no problem."

I take Emma back with me to the kitchen.

"So, Emma. How was lunch? Doesn't it get a bit dull having milk all the time? I know you have no teeth, but you should have seen great-grandmother Tribbiani. Not one tooth in her mouth and she could eat everything. Maybe it's because you don't know better yet. Hey, you know what? When you're older, I'm taking you to this great place where they make the best sandwiches in whole New York, what do you say? I swear, you'll never drink milk again after that."

"I suppose as a responsible mother, I shouldn't let her go with you then."

Rachel is standing in the door, grinning widely.

"Wow, geez, Rachel, you scared me, I almost dropped her."

I'm a bit embarrassed that she heard me talk to Emma like that. I mean, of course I know Emma can't understand me yet, but I can't bring myself to behave like Ross when he has her. Probably means I'm not good with babies. Although Emma doesn't seem to mind.

"I like it that you talk to her like she is a normal human being," Rachel says as if she was reading my mind. "Ross sometimes drives me crazy with all the silly baby-talk."

God, I love her.

She puts the bassinet she brought with her besides the kitchen table and sits down. I put Emma in there.

"So, what's for lunch, Chef Tribbiani? Mhhm, wait, let me guess …tomato soup a lá grandma Tribbiani."

She takes a spoon and eats right out of the pot. "Mhhhm, Joey, that is so good."

That one triggers all the wrong memories.

Rachel catches the look on my face and hurriedly corrects herself. "I mean, it's delicious."

"Well … uh…," I stutter, trying to get a grip. "It's not much, your kitchen is a disaster."

Rachel smiles at me again. I am glad. This could have been awkward.

"Every kitchen without peanut butter is a disaster for you, right?"

"There is not just the peanut butter missing, Rach. Look I put together a whole list of stuff I'll need to prepare a decent meal."

Rachel looks totally surprised. "You … you want to cook for me again sometime?"

"Only if you want me to. If not …"

"No, no Joey, of course I want you to. I haven't felt that good in a week. I'm really grateful for what you did. I just thought it was a one time thing."

"I would love to help you out with Emma regularly if that's okay with you. Not that I think you couldn't handle her or that you're not a good mother or that you need any help…"

"Joey, stop it. I know I need help, and I can't handle her, at least not all the time. I'm thankful for every help I can get."

"So, it's okay for me to come over again?"

She looks up at me with tears in her eyes and takes my hand in hers. This is the first time we have physical contact again since the day I made her leave. It's overwhelming. And also a bit funny if I think about it. Who would have thought that one day, just holding hands would mean so much to me.

"Of course it is, Joey. But why…why are you doing this?"

"You're a friend who could use some help. So here I am."

She takes a tentative step towards me and leans lightly against my chest.

"Thank you, Joey," she murmurs, "Thank you."

It takes me a while but eventually I let go of her hand and put my arms around her, holding her tight, reveling in the feeling of having her back there. Even after everything we've been through, I still can't fight the feeling that this is where I want her to be.

For the rest of my life.

xxxxxx

tbc


	9. Chapter 7 Joey Part 2

A/N: Thanks to Stephanie for fast last-minute beta reading.

* * *

**Chapter 7 - Joey - Part 2**

Three months later

Rachel has her beauty day today. She was talking about that for a while now. About a day where she could get her hair done, get a facial, do all the stuff women like to do to feel good about themselves.

She wanted to go with Monica so I volunteered to take Emma for that day.

I can't believe how happy that made her. When I asked why she hadn't brought that up sooner, she told me she felt selfish for wanting to do something only for herself, something without the baby.

After seeing her with Emma for four months now, I can't comprehend why she still thinks of herself as bad mother. She is a great mother.

I told her so and I also assured her that it is normal to feel claustrophobic after spending more than four months mostly in one place. She was hugging me then, thanking me, telling me for the millionths time that she wouldn't know what to do without me, that she can't imagine not having me in her life.

It seems that as her friend, I can have all the affection from her, all the things I've always wanted and couldn't have as her lover. And although it hurts me deeply that I can't have both, the affection and the physical stuff, if I would have to choose, there would be no question what I would rather have, what makes me happier.

Since I don't care much about being in Ross' apartment without Rachel, because sometimes I get that feeling of claustrophobia there too, I decided to go to the coffeehouse to give Emma her bottle there .

When I walk into Central Perk, Gunther glares at me. That's the way he looks at me lately all the time. I still haven't figured out what I did wrong. Even bigger tips don't seem to help the situation.

"Hey Gunther, can I have a cappuccino and this bottle of milk warmed up for the lady please," I say as friendly as possible, putting a bottle of breast milk onto the counter.

Gunther takes the bottle and turns around without a word. Jerk.

Surprisingly enough, I haven't even comfortably settled into the armchair with Emma, when he brings both the bottle and the cappuccino. He puts the cup on the table and hands me the bottle wordlessly.

After testing the temperature I give the bottle to Emma and she drinks without any protest. Which I still find funny since Rachel can't get her to drink out of a bottle at all. It only works if it's Ross or me. Who can blame Emma, she probably knows exactly that with mommy, food comes in a real nice package.

If I were her… no. Not going there. I squash the thought as soon as it pops into my head. I've gotten quite good at this. As I said, I am happy with the way our relationship is now and that gives me the strength to govern the feelings, the needs that still arise in me sometimes. Maybe some day, they will be all gone. Until then, I only need to remind me how bad I felt back when we had this crazy… thing or whatever it was and that cures me of any inappropriate thoughts I might have.

"Aww, look at you two all cute!" I hear Phoebe gushing and I look up.

She sits down on the couch with Mike.

"Seriously Joey, you look great with a baby, every woman in this place wants to be the mother of your children."

"Phoebe, I am still here," Mike pipes up beside her.

"Oh yeah honey, I bet you'll look great with a baby, too."

They kiss and I look around to verify Phoebe's statement. Yup, she's right. I haven't even noticed. Heh. Women are victims of their biology as much as men. It's actually a pity that I'm not interested.

"So, who's the happy one?" asks Phoebe pointing at my hand.

Ahh crap, the ring. How do I explain that one to her?

"Soap opera digest says you're secretly married."

"I'm not, okay?"

"Then why are you wearing a wedding ring? Drake's not married either so don't even start with that."

"I'm in public with Emma a lot and… will you just look at them?" I whisper the last part indicating a group of giggling girls in the corner, who are apparently very much into my paternal qualities.

"So you pretend you're married to fend off all the girls?" Mike asks with a slight hint of irritation in his voice.

"Basically... yes."

It is more than that, though. When I told Rachel I'm off the market, it was the truth. I feel committed to her which of course, is quite sad in a way, since nothing will ever come out of this, but it is what this ring symbolizes for me. I understand now why people get married. Maybe some day I'll be able to put that ring back into a drawer and all my feelings for Rachel with it. Until then, I am not available.

"You realize that people think you're married to Rachel, don't you?"

No, I didn't realize that. Although it explains Gunther's behavior.

"This is crazy, she doesn't even have a ring."

"Joey, think about it. You are constantly seen around town with her baby and when the two of you are together you can cut the chemistry with a knife."

Just when I thought I was getting good at hiding my feelings.

"Seriously, if I wouldn't know better, I would say there is something going on between you two."

"There is nothing going on, Pheebs! This is ridiculous. We're friends, I'm helping out with the baby, that's all."

In this moment Gunther appears at the table. "You want another cappuccino?"

Well, at least I convinced him.

"Calm down, Joey. I wasn't saying there is, I'm just telling you what it looks like. I had a feeling you weren't aware of that."

"I don't care what it looks like. We're not doing anything wrong."

"I would say running around pretending to be married isn't exactly right either."

Mike again.

"I am not pretending to be anything. I just let people draw their own conclusions."

For the longest time Phoebe looks at me as if she wants to say something against that. But then she just shrugs.

"Whatever you say."

* * *

a few days later 

"Rach, you coming? We're getting a little bored out here, waiting to get on the road."

"Just a sec, I have to make myself presentable."

With that, Rachel comes out of the bathroom, smiling brightly. "How do I look?"

Beautiful.

"Great. What were you worried about, youalways look great."

"Joey, flattery won't get you anywhere. Just tell me the truth. Do I look like I have a four months old baby?"

"Rachel, you look like the baby could be your little sister, but if you don't get going right now, the baby in question will start screaming and it will take at least two blocks for her to become quiet again. So if you want to go with us, move it."

Finally Rachel starts to hurry.

"So where do you usually go with her?"

"The park, mostly."

"Okay, so the park it is."

Her excitement is weird somehow. Today she suddenly decided she wanted to go with us, not using the free time to take a nap or to do something for herself. And since then she behaved as if she's going to the prom.

I'm not even that glad about her coming with us, because I have no idea what we're gonna talk about. There are a lot of things we probably should talk about, but I'd rather not go there, since everything is just so nice at the moment. On the other hand, I have no idea if we can steer clear of all the awkward topics for the duration of a whole walk in the park.

"So, what's up with all the excitement, Rachel? It's just the park."

She seems to have to think about that for a long time.

"It's just … about a year ago I met this friend of mine from high school. Ross knows her too. She just had a baby and she looked … she looked awful. Like she didn't even care anymore how she looked. Her baby was all cute and dressed nicely and everything, but she looked like hell. Back then I thought that if I ever gonna have a baby, I would take care of myself, I wouldn't let it come to this. And … remember, two months ago, I was exactly where she was."

"Maybe looks aren't as important as you think, Rach."

"No Joey, you don't understand. It's not about me being vain or shallow or something. I have a beautiful baby and I am happy about having her. Why should I look like this was the worst thing that could've happened to me?"

That makes sense.

"Well, if you still wanna know, you look beautiful. You look like having this baby was the best thing that ever happened to you."

"Thank you, Joey" she says, smiling happily at me and I find myself smiling back at her.

"Oh look, what a beautiful little baby!" an elderly woman with a thick British accents gushes while looking adoringly at Emma.

Rachel looks a bit surprised. I am not. Walking around with Emma for the last months made me get used to talking with old ladies and young mothers about Emma.

"Yeah, isn't she," I say proudly.

It's not that I want to make people believe I am something I'm not. If people ask me, I always tell them she's not my daughter, but I still feel happy when even strangers see in her what I see. A totally lovable, beautiful little girl.

The lady keeps cooing at Emma. "You are such a lucky little girl to have parents who love you and each other so much. One doesn't see that too often anymore these days."

Right now, I wish for the ground to open up and swallow me cause I can't stand the thought that my love for Rachel is written that visibly all over my face. The thought that my best kept secret is now out in the open terrifies me.

Rachel doesn't say anything and I slowly start to panic when one scenario after the other pops into my head and makes me fear that I'm again going to lose everything that's important to me.

"That old lady really bought your act, didn't she?"

Thank God she interpreted it this way.

"Yeah, I'm a terrific actor, am I?" I joke, unbelievably relieved.

"Yeah, you are …terrific."

* * *

a few weeks later 

Ross is seeing someone.

Some girl named Charlie who is a fellow dinosaur expert. He keeps raving about her all the time and is apparently really into her. Three days ago he thanked me for keeping Rachel company and helping with Emma, since this way he doesn't have to feel bad for spending time with Charlie.

I asked Rachel, if she's okay with Ross having a girlfriend again and surprisingly enough, Rachel seemed to be happy for Ross. She said she is glad he finally found someone who shares his enthusiasm about all the stuff we were making fun of on a regular basis. Someone who he can talk to on the same level.

I never thought about it that way, but now that she said that, it occurs to me that the two of them didn't really have much in common at all.

I'm not sure if that's a necessity for a successful relationship, but if it is, Rachel and I would be great together. I can barely remember why I was worried at first that we wouldn't have anything to talk about. We have.

I love it when she talks about her high school years and tells all the stories of Monica, Ross and Chandler that I heard from them somewhat different. The stuff about her work gets more and more interesting with everything I learn about what she does.

But it's not like she the one who does all the talking. She is taking great interest in what I have to say, too.

There is my work that fascinates her beyond reason. She can't get enough of the anecdotes from the set or the gossip about my co-stars. And she likes to hear all the stories about my family. Having two sisters herself, she obviously can't comprehend how someone can grow up around seven of them without going crazy.

Rachel is planning on going back to work in January. A few days ago Ross and Rachel hired a nanny to take care of Emma, since it's already the beginning of December.

The nanny is with Emma right now so Rachel and I are at Central Perk, reading and sipping our coffee.

"What do you think of her?"

Since I was just leafing somewhat unenthusiastically through the newest 'Playboy' I'm not quite sure who she means.

"Who?"

"Molly. The nanny."

It surprises me that Rachel wants my opinion until it occurs to me she might not want me to tell her what I think of the nanny professionally. Better ask. "As a woman or as a nanny?"

"As a nanny of course," Rachel chides, mockingly exasperated.

She really wants to know what I think of her abilities as a nanny. For some reason, that feels great.

"Emma likes her and she seems to know what she's doing. I guess she's okay."

Rachel nods, contemplating what I said for a while and then looks at me mischievously. "And as a woman?"

A smirk spreads over my face. I knew it. "Oh, you wanna know that too, huh?"

"Just tell me."

"Well, she is pretty, seems to be smart. Not my type though."

Shit, why can't I think about what I say before it comes out of my mouth? She is certainly gonna ask what my type would be.

"So what's your type?"

You.

"Uh …I'm just not so much into blondes I guess."

I can almost watch how she's mentally compiling a list of all blonde girls I ever went out with. Time to change the subject.

"Rach, I was meaning to ask you something."

I really was, but now seemed like an excellent time to ask.

"Shoot."

"When you'll work again and the nanny takes care of Emma, I will hardly see her anymore. So …"

My courage to ask her that question suddenly leaves me. I know it's a very unusual request. Something most people would even consider inappropriate. There is a good chance that even Rachel would perceive it that way.

"What is it?"

Looks like it's too late to back out now.

"Do you think it would be okay if Molly brings her over for one or two hours a day?"

Rachel looks surprised but since she's smiling, I think she's positively surprised.

"Of course it's okay. It's …"

"What?"

"It's so amazing that she means so much to you. You have no idea how happy that makes me."

"Why's that?"

"Because I love her and I love … and you are my friend, so it's so great that you love her too."

She smiles at me and then places a chaste kiss on my cheek. I take her in my arms and we sit like that until Molly comes back with Emma.

xxxxx

tbc


	10. Chapter 8 Rachel

**Chapter Eight - Rachel**

Joey and I are sitting on the couch in Ross' apartment. Emma is in my room taking a nap.  
We are talking about what we plan to do the next day when Joey suddenly says:  
"Rachel, I can't keep quiet about that anymore, I love you."  
"Oh Joey, I love you too."  
"Then why are we fighting this? You know, you want it to happen as much as I do. I want you. I need you. Let me make love to you."  
"Oh Joey, yes. I've waited so long for that."  
And then he kisses me. We lay down onto the couch and his kisses are melting me with their all consuming passion and he touches me and …

"Rachel, have you seen the documents I brought from work yesterday?"

Damn you, Ross! Can't a woman have a little peace around here while having completely inappropriate daydreams about her … friend?

"No, haven't seen them," I reply, trying to get my breathing under control.

"Rachel, are you okay? You look like you have a fever or something."

Well, I **am** feeling a bit hot right now. Not that this is any of his business. Okay, maybe it is. It is nice of him to be so attentive, so concerned for me. It just irritates me sometimes because sometimes it is bordering on patronizing.

"I'm okay. I worked out before feeding Emma so I guess I'm still a bit out of breath."

"Trying to get that flat stomach back, are you? But you know, no hard work out right before breastfeeding, it makes the milk taste bad."

See, like now.  
Never in a million years would Joey even dream of saying something like that.

It's these moments that make me want to move out as soon as possible.  
These and the ones when Charlie is here and it is more than obvious they would like to have some privacy but can't since Emma and I are there the whole time.  
But I don't want to move in somewhere alone. I want a roommate again. A roommate who is a good friend. A friend who loves my daughter. I want a roommate whose name is Joey Tribbiani.

I have no idea if he would want that again but before I can even think of asking him, I have to talk to Ross about it. This decision affects Emma as much as me, so Ross and I will have to make this decision together, even if I would rather make it alone.

He shuffles around in the apartment a bit more before exclaiming,

"Hey, I found them!"

Thank God.

"I just have to drop off these documents at work, I'll be back in an hour, two at most."

"No plans with Charlie tonight?"

"Well, Joey told me he has to work tonight so I figured you wouldn't want to be alone and I cancelled my date with Charlie."

I'm just about to tell him that there is no need whatsoever to do that since once in a while I like to be alone, when it occurs to me that this might be the perfect opportunity for me to talk to Ross about my plans and to get him to approve.

"Okay, see you then."

"Bye Rachel, bye Emma."

Then he's out the door and I can go back to my daydreams.

They're all very similar. Joey says he loves me, I say I love him and then we have sex. Great sex, the way it always was. These dreams usually leave me ready to explode and sometimes after I put Emma in her bed I go to bed myself to finish what I started.

The dreams always start while I'm breastfeeding and yes I'm aware of the fact how sick that sounds.  
But I read in one of the books about breastfeeding that for some women it is a very sensual experience. It has something to do with – what else – hormones. At first I couldn't even remotely understand what they were talking about but after a few months I started to experience this myself.

When I brought it up in the mother and child group I'm attending sometimes, quite a few of the women there admitted to feel that too. The midwife who leads the group told us that our bodies are trying to tell us that we're ready to have a physical relationship with our significant others again. Turns out, regardless of what their bodies were or were not telling them, most of the women of the group already had sex again. Or, to be more precise, I was the only one who hadn't.

"Honey, don't push yourself into anything you're not ready for," said the ever understanding midwife.

"I knew women who needed a year before they were able to let their husbands anywhere near them again."

Problem is, I am ready. I'm just all out of significant others right now.

Not that it looks that way from the outside.

Joey and I are constantly mistaken for a married couple thanks to the wedding ring Joey started to wear in public when he first helped out with Emma.  
Lately he is wearing the ring even when we're alone, I guess he just got used to it so he forgets to take it off. It's actually kind of nice.

Normally, when people hear you're a single mother, even if you tell them the father of the child is a great help and really involved in the child's life, all you ever get is pity.  
This way, I get compliments for my beautiful baby and I like that a lot better.

When we're together, it feels like we three are a real family. I know he wouldn't want me to say that, but he is like a father to Emma. And although she is only six months old, it doesn't take an expert to see that she adores him, too.

If Joey would love me, if we would be a couple this could be the only way for this relationship to work.  
I could never be in a relationship with a man who wouldn't be able to accept my child as a part of our life, who wouldn't love her. Even the thought of being with somebody who sees Emma as an annoyance he has to endure if he wants to be with me makes me sick.  
So it is not like Joey would replace Ross in Emma's life but he could be the one who is the man in the life of her mother.

Yeah, wishful thinking.

Ross and I are a whole other story. We are sort of sharing Emma. Either he has her, or I have. Which is totally okay because this will definitely be the way things will have to work in the future. And surprisingly enough, they do. Emma seems to know that mommy goes whenever daddy takes her and she seems to be okay with it. It is a miracle how this tiny person already seems to understand the inner workings of the family she was born into.

She likes Charlie and Charlie is actually great with her and I'm happy about that. One would expect me to be jealous but I'm not. If Ross manages to make that relationship with Charlie work long term - and I can really see that - it couldn't be any other way.

So back to Joey.

Joey is amazing. I mean I knew he is a great guy, sweet and caring and … well there were a lot of reasons I fell in love with him in the first place.  
But since Emma's birth I learned so many other things about him I think I love him a little bit more each day.

First thing is the way he is with Emma. I was so happy he wanted to help that day when he first came over but didn't dare to hope it would be more than 'crisis management'. Imagine my surprise when he kept coming over.  
Even when the first hard months with Emma were behind me and I had developed a reliable routine with her, he was still there. Sometimes to help, sometimes to go with us on a walk, but sometimes just to play with Emma or to keep me company.

Never before had we talked so much, learned so much about each other's lives than in these months. With every talk we had it was harder for me to fathom why I ever perceived him as stupid or shallow. He knows so much more about life and people than I ever will. Hell, he even knew more about pregnancies and babies than I did.

For some reason he likes it when people underestimate him. I repeatedly caught him playing dumb when we're together with the group. He appeared to have never had heard about things the two of us had been talking about just hours ago. I even tried to point that out once, but he silenced me with a very resolute glare.  
As I asked him about that later he smirked.

"Hey, I am hot, I get all the girls, I have a job I'm passionate about and I'm not even stupid. Where would that leave Chandler?"

"Seriously Joey, why are you doing this, I can't believe you're doing it for Chandler?"

"Not only for him. Everyone seemed to like me that way when I first moved in with Chandler and was all naïve and stuff. So over the time, I played that up a bit, that's all. I mean, I really didn't know who Albert Einstein was."

Even if he was extremely cocky when he talked about himself, I couldn't argue with the part about him being hot.  
Because having him around all the time brings me back to the state of mind I was in when I first made a move on him. It took awhile for these needs to awaken again but they're back full force. And I have no idea how to handle them.  
The daydreams are actually some kind of relief for me. I can focus my sexual energy on them instead of undressing Joey with my eyes every time I see him.

I have no clue why he brings that out in me so strongly. Well, I have in a way, but it is not only about being in love because I've been in love before and I've never felt this raw need that almost knocks me over every time I only so much as look at him.

I think I can even pinpoint the exact moment when I realized that I am in the same sort of trouble again that almost made me lose him before.  
It was New Years Eve at Monica and Chandler's.

They had told everyone to bring a date, so I had already resigned myself to not getting kissed when the ball dropped, because I, of course, came alone.

Surprisingly enough, Joey came without a date too. Although if I really think about it, I can't remember one single moment in the last six months, when I had the impression he was seeing someone. Strange. And great somehow since that spared me a lot of pointless jealousy.

Anyway, a few minutes before midnight, when everyone already paired up, Joey came to me, looking around himself.

"Looks like we're the last remaining single ones."

A flash of excitement ran through me. Could he really …?

"Yeah, it does."

The only thought that was racing through my mind back then was that I would do everything to get to kiss him. Really kiss him.

"Do you think it would be okay for us again to … you know … to kiss when the ball drops?"

If I would have been honest, I would've had to tell him no. It will never be okay for me again as long as I know that a kiss is the only thing I'll ever get from him.

But like always when it comes to Joey, willpower completely failed me and I said, "Yeah, I guess it would be alright."

"Okay."

I asked myself if he would be disappointed if he knew about the heat spreading out from deep within my belly, encompassing my whole body, leaving me short of breath.  
I wondered if he would rethink his decision if he knew how the countdown felt like foreplay to me, waking a desire that startled me with it's intensity, bringing me to a point where I had to rely solely on him to break the kiss again because I knew beyond a doubt that I wouldn't be able to.

Maybe he did know all of that because he was the one drawing back first, giving me a look that unmistakably said 'no'.

"Happy New Year, Rachel" he said warmly, the look in his eyes softening again.

"Happy New Year, Joey."

I remembered the New Years Eve four years ago when he asked me if his kiss did anything for me.

Well, this one did, Joey. This one did more for me than you would ever want to know.

* * *

I will go back to work in a few days. 

We worked out a schedule on which days Joey will come over here to spend the evening with Emma and me and on which days Molly is going to bring Emma to him.  
I hope we won't to do that for too long because everything would be so much easier if I were to live with Joey again.

Ross came back from work half an hour ago. We have comfortably settle on the couch and talk about our day.  
Mostly about his day, because mine was as uneventful as ever. Especially since I haven't seen Joey today.

"Uhm…Ross, I was meaning to talk to you about something important."

Ross gets serious in an instant.  
"What is it, Rachel?"

"Ross I didn't say it's something bad, I said it's important."

His expression relaxes noticeably.  
"Okay good, so, what is it?"

"Remember how we talked about me moving out sometime?"

"Yeah. You want to move out?"

I try to judge the look on his face but I don't have the impression that this would be a problem for him.

"Yes, I want to Ross. I mean you're with Charlie now and …"

"Rachel, you remember that I said you shouldn't feel pressured about me seeing someone. We can make this work. It worked so far. I …"

It wasn't my intention to make Ross feel guilty. I have to find another way to make him see it would be good for me to move out.

"No, Ross, you seeing Charlie has actually nothing to do with it. I was just trying to make a selling point for my wanting to move out."

"Do you have a place already you want to move in to?"

Okay, there is no other way than just say it.

"I was thinking about asking Joey if I can move in with him again."

Ross looks puzzled.  
"But that would mean just changing roommates. I mean, not that I have something against this but wasn't the point of you moving out that you can have your own place, that you can be on your own?"

I'm glad he seems to be okay with it, I just wished I wouldn't have to explain the why.

"I don't want to be on my own, Ross. And I loved living with Joey. I mean it was great living with you, but Joey and I lived together for years and … I … I just want to try to go back there."

In more ways than one.

"You two were really close the last months. Is there something going on between you two?"

Oops. And … I wish.

"Oh no. No. No no no no. Nothing's going on. Nothing. We're just friends."

Yeah, that has to convince him. Especially the bazillion no's.

Ross seems a bit startled at my outburst and then shrugs.  
"Okay Rachel, whatever you say."

He looks at me as if he expects me to say anything.  
"Have you asked him already?" he asks finally.

"No, I wanted to ask you first."

He shrugs again, convincing me by his casual behavior that this doesn't bother him at all.

"Like I said, I have nothing against this. Joey is my friend, he is great with Emma and you two seem to go along great. And you already lived together, so …why not."

Okay, I took that hurdle and it was easier than I thought. Next step would be to ask Joey. And Idon't haveeven the slightest clue how to do that.

* * *

Two weeks later 

Today is our third officially scheduled 'Joey, Rachel and Emma' evening and I promised myself that today I won't chicken out of asking Joey if I can move in with him again.

This situation is ridiculous. I'm sharing Emma with two men now, then there is Molly. This whole back and forth can't be good for her.

My not asking Joey is getting ridiculous as well. Ross always asks me what Joey said and I always have to tell him I haven't talked with him about it yet. It was understandable at first because we really talked a lot about my job and how everything has changed and stuff. But the last time I just kept my mouth shut, knowing very well that I had the opportunity to ask.

Every time I start to say something, I get a frog in my throat.  
It's because I also want to tell him something else.

Because lately I find myself thinking a lot about just telling Joey how I feel, finding out if he is where I am. I mean, if he isn't, I would know for sure. I could start to move on, I could get my head free for my child and my work. Maybe I could get over him one day and then I could really call him my friend again.

I should tell him. If I only wouldn't be so scared.  
But one step at a time. First I have to tell him I want to move in with him again.

"Uhm … Joey, I wanted to ask you something."

Joey puts Emma down in her playpen, telling her he will be back in a minute, sits down beside me and lets me see that I have his undivided attention.  
"Okay, shoot."

"I'm thinking about moving out here."

That clearly takes him by surprise.

"Whoa … wha …why, what's with you and Ross? I mean, just because he's dating someone else doesn't mean …"  
I can't believe he still thinks there might be something happening with Ross and me again. I have to tell him it's over once and for all.

"Joey, Ross and I are over. There is no getting back together. I don't love him anymore and he doesn't love me. We talked about that, we made our peace with what's in the past. He is with Charlie now. You should see them together. I could definitely see the two of them going somewhere. I think he loves her. I mean, they're seeing each other for almost two months now and he hasn't even proposed yet."

That gets a smile out of Joey.

"So you're really okay with this?"

"You already asked me that question."

"I know, I just wanted to check again."

"What I am not okay with is the fact that I am starting to get in their way, that Ross is almost never in his own apartment anymore because his ex-wife is living there, making it impossible for him to spend time with his girlfriend. And spending time with his girlfriend at her place means not spending it with his daughter, which is also stupid. Also, there are things about him that I will never get used to."

"What things?"

I say the first thing that pops into my head.  
"I am not allowed to throw wet paper towels."

Crap, I hadn't meant for it to come out this way. Joey looks puzzled, maybe he won't notice.

But since he isn't as slow as everybody thinks, he gets it sooner than I manage to come up with something to say to his next question.

"You want to live with me again?"

He doesn't look happy about this. On the contrary.

"Joey … I am … I am thinking about it, yeah. I mean, this way, the three of us could be together all the time, we wouldn't have to drag Emma around like this. You're so great with her and everything, this way you just would have to go to the other room to see her. And we're friends again, right? I think it could work, I think it could be great."

So, I probably shouldn't have said that thing about us being friends again. But judging from the way he looks right now, anything else would've been way too much for him. And I want to live with him again so badly, if it would mean just being friends, maybe I could even go through with that.

"I don't know … I don't know…"

I knew I would have to convince him but I didn't think it would be so hard. I didn't imagine him pacing back and forth through the apartment, running his hand through his hair time and time again, shaking his head and looking for all the world as if I asked him to give up his apartment and live on the streets.

"Look, Joey, I know this is a lot. You don't have to say anything right now. Think about it and when you know what you want, tell me."

He takes a deep breath, shaking his head again, then he turns on his heel, grabs his jacket and leaves, murmuring an almost inaudible 'bye' on his way out.

Needless to say, I didn't imagine this at all.

xxxxxxx

tbc


	11. Chapter 9 Joey

**Chapter Nine - Joey**

She wants to move in with me again.

Four hours ago she told me that and since then I can't think about anything else. Not that thinking about it brought me anywhere. I have honestly no idea what to think about that. I wish I could talk to someone, ask Chandler, or even Ross. I suppose I could, but for them to give me a really good advice about the problem, they would have to know about what happened between Rachel and me and this I can't tell them.

Ever.

So I'm thinking in circles again. Why does she really want this?

Does it really just have to do with Ross' new relationship and the fact that she wants to get out of his and Charlie's way? Or the fact that she wants the three of us to be close because that worked so great in the past six months? Or the fact that we are friends and it should be no problem for us to live together again?

If this were all there is, the decision would be easy. I would be happy to live with her and the little one. I would love to.

But I sense - no, I know - that there is something else. I don't know when it started again, but I know the way she looks at me sometimes, when she thinks I don't see it. When she hugs me, I can feel that she wants more than that. I also feel that she is trying to hold herself back and I respect that. Problem is, if she fails at that just once, I won't be there to stop her. I know I wouldn't be able to. We would get right back into the problems I thought we had left behind.

For the longest time I was sure that now, I could just say no. I was convinced that although I'm still in love with her, some sense of self-preservation would prevent me form getting weak again. I was getting so sure about my ability to resist her, that I suggested that kiss on New Years Eve.

It was a stupid situation they put us in because we were the only single people in the room. Okay so they told us to bring a date but I knew Rachel wouldn't bring anyone and I couldn't do it to her to show up with some girl and let her be the only single one at that party. I knew the kissing thing would be inevitable. Not kissing her would have raised a lot more eyebrows than kissing her did. This way, no one noticed anything.

But I did. I noticed that Rachel lied to me about being okay with kissing me again. I noticed the heat coming off her in waves, noticed her excitement and I noticed what it did to me to know that she still wants me so much. I noticed that she started kissing me before the ball dropped and that all my defenses were crumbling around me only from the feeling of her lips against mine. I'm still glad I managed to stop it. But I know for sure that if there were a next time, I couldn't.

What I still don't understand is the disappointment, the sadness I saw in her eyes afterwards. Because the way it looks to me, she can have every guy she wants. She isn't pregnant anymore, she can date again. Nothing is holding her back, really. I don't understand why it still has to be me. Why she still looks at me that way, with those hungry looks I almost dreaded before.

But maybe, possibly, I have it all wrong. Maybe her sexual energy is focused on me because I am the only available man in her life right now. Just the way it was when she was pregnant.

Yeah, that has to be it. She can't actually date again because she is living with Ross. And even if she says they're over, she wouldn't be comfortable bringing a date home when he is around. I mean, he obviously feels awkward about bringing Charlie to his place because Rachel is there, it will be the very same if it's her who brings someone. And I know she still doesn't want do spend a night away from Emma.

So she probably thinks since it was always okay in the past, her bringing someone home when she'll live with me again would be okay. Added benefit would be that she is out of Ross' way and we can spend time together with Emma like we did in the past months.

Everything would be just perfect if it weren't for the fact that I would probably break every guy's neck who comes in here, touching my girl.

I know I have no right to feel that way but I've long since given up on trying to reason with my heart. I thought that one day, I would just stop feeling that way. But I'm sure that won't ever happen with her being here all the time. Because as selfish as it sounds, I need my time away from her. I need time to unwind and decompress, finding an outlet for all the suppressed feelings once in a while; time for wallowing in self pity; time for hanging in the lounger, thinking of the time we did it there; time for touching myself, groaning her name when I come.

I can't tell her that. I can't tell her any of that without revealing what I feel for her. Sometimes I think maybe I should.  
I mean, if she wants to live with me, I should let her know what she's getting herself into. She probably wouldn't want to live with me anyway, if she knew about my feelings. But what if … what if …

Good God, can't at least that one leave me alone already? Foolish, pointless and agonizing hope? Hope that is always fueling all the other emotions I just want to go away. Hope that prevents me from being genuinely happy about what Rachel and I have now. It's been almost a year. There should be no hope. It is utterly and undisputable hopeless.

Chandler is knocking on my door. At least I think it's him although it would be weird for him to knock … or to come over ten minutes before midnight for that matter.

I open up and in the door stands Rachel.

"Can I come in?"

"Of course, Rach, what is it? Something wrong? What are you doing here in the middle of the night?"

"Nothing's wrong Joey. I just … couldn't sleep and I saw that your light was still on and I …" She sighs sadly and continues.

"Joey, when you ran out the door like that before I thought you were mad at me. I can't stand the thought of you being mad at me."

Why does she have to look at me like that? As if I'm the single most important person to her, as if it would turn her world upside down if I were to be mad at her. It's those looks that keep the hope alive. I don't want to hope anymore.

"I'm not mad at you, Rach. I just needed to think."

Rachel sits down on the kitchen counter, fidgeting nervously with a pen that was lying there.

"I know I said you can take as long as you need for your decision, but I have to know. I need to know what you're thinking."

If only I knew.

"I'm not done thinking, Rachel. You sure you want to be roommates again?"

The pen is shaking in her hand. I take it from her and placing it on the counter eloquently. That makes her look up at me surprised and almost a bit frightened.

"Tell me."

She slowly reaches for my hand, taking it firmly into hers. "I was hoping we could be more than just roommates."

I recoil sharply, ripping my hand violently out of her grasp. She can't be serious. She can't possibly want to start that again, now that we managed to salvage our friendship. I can feel the anger at her suggestion bubbling up to the surface.

"No, no absolutely not, Rachel. We're not going down that road again – ever."

"What road, Joey? I was trying to say…" she says looking at me with pleading eyes.

Oh no, I'm not gonna fall for that one again.

"I know what you were trying to say. But like I said, it's not gonna happen again."

"What is not gonna happen, Joey?", she asks getting visibly frustrated.

I am beyond being frustrated, I'm seething.

"I'm not gonna be your fuck buddy again."

That stops the tears I could already see welling up in her eyes and her face contorts into a grimace of unmasked rage.

"You're still thinking that you … you … you brainless idiot?"

Looks like I finally have my answer to the question what she is really feeling about me.

"Give me one reason not to!"

Of course there is none. There never was.

"I can't believe I wasted my time on you like that," she spits back at me while leaving the apartment, slamming the door shut forcefully behind her.

You just go, don't hit your ass on your way out.

The first thing to feel my anger is the ring, that I take off and throw through the room furiously. Then I reach for the nearest ketchup bottle.

xxxx

tbc


	12. Chapter 10 Rachel

**Chapter Ten - Rachel**

Four weeks later

I'm feeling lonely.

It's not all I'm feeling. I also feel angry and betrayed and bottomless disappointed. But I mostly feel lonely.

Even when Ross is there, or when I'm at Monica's like right now, I am feeling like the loneliest person in the world. It feels like a wall of glass is separating me from everyone. Like I have to live with all those emotions I have and I can't share, I can't talk to anyone about them.

There is a big gap where my heart once was and I can't even reach the people who might be able to help me. I can't reach the one person who certainly could help me but refuses to. It makes me want to scream but sometimes I think no one would hear me or understand what I am saying.

I think I'm losing my mind.

Today I took a day off from work because Molly is sick and I decided to visit my now five months pregnant friend Monica, decided to ignore the fact that Joey might be there.

For the past four weeks, I wouldn't have done this. I went only over to Monica when I knew he was at work and I still know his schedule quite well.

Molly still brings Emma over to his place three times a week. As mad as I am at him, I can't ignore or deny the fact that he genuinely cares about her, that Emma likes him and that he asked me to let him spend time with her, even though this was back when everything still seemed to be good with us.

But I know I was deluding myself back then. I was pretending I could be friends with him again as if nothing has happened, as if all those feelings I have weren't there anymore.

I suppose I set myself up for getting hurt again. But this time, I blame him completely. Because even if I was the delusional one, he was the one to throw those words into my face. I thought he was sorry for saying this. Maybe he was sorry for saying it, but he obviously never thought he was wrong.

Nothing has changed.

It feels like I was going in a circle for the last year. I'm right back at square one. And this is what really makes me angry beyond belief.

This time, we're not even pretending anymore. We avoid each other. If we can't, we ignore each other. If someone asks me why, I tell them I'm mad at Joey for not wanting me to move in with him again. If someone asks Joey, he tells them he is mad at me because I was making such a fuss about him wanting to live alone. If they want us to talk about it, we tell them we will and that we won't be mad at each other for long and that it isn't even that bad, because I still let Joey spend some time with Emma, what I certainly wouldn't do if things would be really bad between us. So far, everyone bought that.

I don't know how long they will, but for now, I don't have to explain myself.

The really stupid, the maddening thing is, I think I'm still in love with him. Or whatever it is that I'm feeling. Maybe I have some sick addiction to being in emotional pain. That would explain my coming over here today. There is no denying the increasing frequency of my heartbeat when I only think I might see him. This is also why I avoided him to my best ability lately. Because I know I can't trust myself around him. I know if he would ask me, I would forgive him in a heartbeat – like I did the last time.

I definitely need professional help.

Monica is carrying Emma around and tells her that she soon isn't going to be the only child around here anymore.

The door opens and Joey comes in. He doesn't notice me, probably because he wouldn't expect me to be here and I'm glad. I don't think he should see me struggling to breathe normally. Emma sees him and squeals happily.

"Hey, look who's here. Come to uncle Joey, sweety", he coos and walks over to Monica to take my baby from her.

Emma is already extending her chubby arms in his direction expectantly.

I'm torn between melting at seeing him being so warm towards my child and exploding with still burning anger. I go for the latter.

"Oh come on, Joe. You don't need to act as if she means something to you."

I know this was below the belt, I shouldn't have said that. But as it always seems to be the case with me and Joey, I just can't stop myself.

He freezes for a second at hearing my voice and then turns to me slowly, eyes blazing with barely controlled rage. I wish he would say something, yell at me, anything. At least that would give me the opportunity to yell back to vent some of the emotions that are starting to drive me up the wall. But he just turns around and heads for the door. Emma is screaming pitifully and I'm not that far away from screaming myself.

"Yeah, of course Joey Tribbiani. Turn your back on her, too."

He stops for a second, shoulders shaking. Then he takes a deep breath and leaves the apartment.

I take the crying Emma from Monica and try to calm her down.

"It's okay sweety, shh, don't cry. See, you just learned a lesson. Don't waste your heart on a man, sooner or later, he's gonna break it."

"How convenient that there aren't any men here right now," Chandler quips.

After a while Emma stops crying.

"Come to aunt Monica, Emma. I'll show you where little baby Bing is gonna live in about four months."

It is typically Monica to have the nursery ready five months into her pregnancy. If Ross wasn't there, I would have bought all the baby stuff two weeks before Emma was born.

Monica makes a weird face towards Chandler who just nods confirming. Looks like somebody has just been ordered to talk to crazy Rachel.

When Monica disappears behind the door of my former bedroom, I turn to Chandler, trying to prevent the impending lecture about misbehaving in front of friends.

"Look, Chandler, I know..."

"No, you don't", he cuts me off in a very un-Chandler like fashion.

"I'm aware that you have a lot of problems of your own, but it is unfair to lash out at Joey like that. He has nothing to do with it, he was just trying to be nice."

God, I wish I could tell him this has everything to do with Joey.

"Look, you probably don't know that and I guess he's gonna kill me if he finds out I told you, but he is through quite an ordeal himself."

I have to roll my eyes at this. Yeah, I bet he is.

"There was this girl..."

Well, enough is enough. "Chandler I really don't want to know anything about Joey's girls."

"Would you just listen to me for a moment, Rachel!"

I throw my hands up in mocking surrender. "Okay, if it means that much to you."

"He was involved with some girl about a year ago. From what he said he had really deep feelings for her but she just wanted him as ... well ... as her fuck buddy."

There is a roaring in my ears that drowns out everything Chandler is saying after that. This is not happening. It can't be.

"… and it killed him, so when he told me about her, I gave him the advice to end it. I guess he did, but he has never been the same since then."

No, no, **NO**. This can't be real.

"Do you know who she is?" I ask as uninterested as possible.

"No, he never told me. He just talked about her this one time. I figured he didn't want to talk about her anymore after the break up. But I know it is still eating at him."

I can't believe that another one of these brilliant men I've met in my life was too damn stupid to let me know about his feelings **before** everything was too screwed up to save it.

"When did he break up with her?"

"I don't know," he shrugs. "Must have been around the time you moved in with Ross."

I just stand there, rooted to the spot, staring unseeing out the window and trying not to scream, or to throw something against the wall, or to bite Chandler's head off.

"Oh nooo..."

Sounds like he just solved the puzzle. I have to give him credit for doing it so quickly. He probably already suspected it.

"Please Rachel, don't tell me ..."

Monica uses this moment to emerge from the nursery and whispers, "Rachel, she fell asleep. Do you want to let her sleep here for a while?"

"Yes, she does," Chandler answers for me.

He is right, though. This is my golden opportunity to talk with the stupid man in the other apartment.

* * *

After knocking on the door with the number 19 I tap my foot impatiently against the floor. Joey takes his sweet time opening up, probably because he has seen me standing out there. 

"What is it Rachel?" he barks.

"I don't want to discuss that out here. Can I come in?"

For a moment he looks as if he's about to say no but then for some reason decides against being totally rude. "If you have to."

"Thank you."

After he closes the door behind me he prompts me again, "What do you want?"

"You know, Chandler just told me the weirdest story."

That gets me a dark glare from him.

"Well, excuse me Rachel, but I'm not in the mood for one of Chandler's stories right now. I just got humiliated in front of my friends."

It occurs to me that we're talking with one another for the first time in four weeks. The thought almost takes the edge of my anger.

"Just listen, it might cheer you up."

He is still glaring. "I seriously doubt that."

"It is about that guy Chandler knows, who slept with this girl. He had feelings for her, but thought she just wanted to have sex with him. So he ended it."

Joey goes from shaking with suppressed anger to standing perfectly still in one instant. His eyes squeeze shut and his whole body seems to deflate. When he looks back at me he seems smaller. Vulnerable and somehow … frightened.

"I..."

I'm not about to let him off that easy.

"There is one thing in that story that doesn't make sense though: Why didn't the guy just tell the girl about his feelings?"

He looks at me curious and I'm sure he can see the challenge in my eyes.

"What good would that have done when she didn't return them?"

I'm glad he understands what game I want to play. He invented it after all.

"At least he would have known **that** she didn't return them. Besides, how did he figure out she wanted just sex, anyway?"

"She told him so. She said she was looking for someone who she was comfortable with, who knows what he's doing, just to have sex with her. She said she didn't need a relationship at that point."

Yeah, I know I said that but …

"That was **weeks** before they even started to sleep together! Maybe she changed her mind."

"No she didn't. Also, it was a lot more complicated than Chandler will ever know."

"What was so complicated?"

"Well, she was in love with this other guy and they had a lot of history."

Oh my God, not that again.

"Well, she **was** in love with that other guy. Years and years ago. She didn't love that guy anymore, it was over. He should have known that."

"How could he? She was carrying this guy's baby for Christ's sake!"

We're always returning to that. In Joey's eyes, Emma is like this irrevocable prove of my eternal love for Ross. Does it make me a bad mother if I say, that as much as I love her, as much as I always wanted to have her, the reason she exists is nothing more than a coincidence, albeit a very happy one?

"He could have asked."

"He didn't need to. She made very clear what she wanted from him."

"How so?"

"She always left him right after they had sex. To him this felt like she was fleeing a crime scene or something. There was no cuddling, no spending the night, no actual 'sleeping together', just sex."

I had never considered he even wanted that, because most men don't. Even Ross was secretly doing his 'hug'n roll' trick to have his space. Well, if I'm perfectly honest, Joey had asked me a few times to stay with him but I mostly considered this as some sort of post sex courtesy, something he felt compelled to offer and didn't really mean. I should've known better. It would have been unlike him to be this insincere. Still, I had my reasons for leaving his bed.

"Maybe she hadn't wanted to give him the opportunity to tell her how bad and wrong it was, like he always did. Maybe she couldn't deal with that right after making love, because **maybe** she had feelings for him, too. "

This was a Freudian slip, I hadn't meant to say 'making love' but it seems to give Joey a lot to think about and it makes him defensive.

"He didn't always say that. He actually stopped saying it after the third time."

"But he never stopped thinking it, right? He always let her feel how much this situation was killing him."

"That was because he felt rejected every time she turned her back on him."

Chicken, egg. I'm starting to think that we won't be able to place the blame for that particular problem any time soon.

"He always gave her the feeling that one day, it would be over. That one day, he would be able to resist."

"He would never have been able to resist her."

"Yes, maybe", I sneer, "I guess that's why he was throwing her out of his apartment."

Now he looks angry again. "He **wasn't** throwing her out! He was trying to do the right thing. He was trying to get her to live with the man she was supposed to be with. He wanted her child to grow up with its father."

Oh please, who does he think still believes this load of crap?

"No, he didn't! And how **exactly** was **he** the one to know who she was **supposed **to be with? He just wanted her to stop messing up **his** life."

It feels incredibly good to finally get that off my chest.

"Even if this would've been true. What would be so wrong about that? She didn't feel about him the way he felt about her, why shouldn't he have tried to move on?"

He obviously still fails to see the point.

"At least he could have given her a chance."

"A chance for **what**? She had plenty of chances, she had **months** worth of chances to tell him how she felt but she **never** did. He would have **loved** to keep living with her if she would've said **one** word that this was what she wanted. But she **didn't**."

I refuse to believe this. I could have stopped that madness by telling him that I wanted to stay? How could he not have known that?

"Wait, wait, wait. **That was a test?** He made this whole thing up to **test** how she felt about him?"

My voice is raised almost to the level of yelling. Or maybe it qualifies as yelling already. I have to vent a years worth of pent up emotions, yelling feels real good right now.

Joey looks about ready to rip something to pieces. Probably me.

"**No, he didn't!** He made that suggestion because he thought that if she were to live with someone, it should be the man she would be able to love. The father of her child. Her lack of protest just confirmed what he already knew."

That has **got** to be interesting.

"And that would be?"

"That he was only her **god damn fuck buddy!**"

Seriously, if I'm gonna hear him say that one more time, I'll rip his tongue out.

"**Would you just stop saying that! Because he WASN'T!" **

I'm definitely yelling now. Maybe that is the only way to get through this thick skull of his. Also this way, Monica and Chandler won't have such a hard time following our conversation.

"She **had **feelings for him and she **was** devastated that he wanted her to live with that other guy," I continue a lot quieter. How can I make him believe this, how can I prove that this is the truth?  
"Do you really think she would have thrown herself at him time and time again just for some meaningless sex? It wasn't about sex, it was about him."

It seems so much easier to say that when it sounds as if I'm talking about someone else. The embarrassment I feel every time I even so much as think about my shameless behavior is a bit easier to deal with that way. Not that I wouldn't do it again if given the chance. I would, I wouldn't be able to help it, he does that to me. It is like a force of nature.

His reaction makes me realize very painfully how much sooner I should have informed him of that particular fact. He didn't know. He clearly didn't know any of this. How could he not know? On the other hand, how could he? I've never told him.

He stares at me disbelieving for a while then shakes his head and runs his hand through his hair. After a few moments of contemplating he asks,

"Then why didn't **she** say something? Anything would have put him out of his misery. It would have made him the happiest man on earth."

My heart hurts as if it's squeezed by an iron fist. I had wished to hear that from him, fantasized about a moment where he would say something like this to me for almost a year now. To realize it is partly my doing that it never happened makes me want to kill myself.

"She was scared," I admit barely audible. He steps a bit closer to me and looks at me intently.

"He ... ", he shakes his head and starts again, "I was scared too, Rachel. I never felt that way about any woman before. I was ... I was terrified."

I remember the moment I heard him say that in that exact tone of voice, one year ago. I remember that so vividly, because this was the moment when I knew that I felt so much more for him than just friendship.

I can't believe we discovered those feelings at almost the same time and kept them locked up for so long. No wonder we were going nuts.

He takes my hand and I have to close my eyes when I feel his skin on mine. It still happens. This thing where I feel like a heap of churning emotions just from being touched by him. I can already feel tears threatening to fill my eyes.

"It probably doesn't make any difference anymore but for what it's worth, I am still in love with you Rachel."

He loves me? We were talking about 'feelings' and now he says he's in love with me? He still is after everything that happened? And why does that make me so deliriously happy? One would think after all the things he said to me, after being mad at him for weeks, after vowing to myself to never get weak like that again, it shouldn't affect me at all. But it does.  
Big time.

"I guess I always will be. I mean, I've tried to move on. I dated other women, but I could hardly bring myself to kiss them let alone ..."

Let alone what? Sleep with them? If he thinks I'll buy that he hadn't slept with one single woman for ten months, he can start to think again.

"You didn't sleep with any of those women?" I ask incredulously. We better clear that one up right now. We have used up all the possibilities for misunderstandings for a lifetime.

"I couldn't. I know it sounds pathetic and silly, but just kissing them felt wrong somehow."

The big question is, why would he lie about this?

"Besides, after having had the best sex of my life with you, why would I even bother with anyone else?"

Wow, that really **is** the truth. Joey is a terrible liar he wouldn't be able to go through with a lie this big without giving it away somehow. That means…

"You really love me."

This is more a statement than a question. It is disconcerting how much it means to me that he didn't sleep with other women after me. If anything, the two of us were really 'on a break', there wasn't even a relationship to begin with and still he was faithful. The one thing no one would've expected of Joey Tribbiani. Maybe this was one of the fears I always had about being in love with him. That he **would** sooner or later hurt me the way Ross did. Because he was Joey, the womanizer, and you supposedly can't change a man like him. I remember Ross' words when he tried to justify what he did. 'I don't cheat. That's not me. I'm not Joey.'

Well, looks like both of them proved that one wrong.

Funny thing is, all my fears of getting hurt again had obviously led directly to me getting hurt again. Now I can't stop the tears anymore.

"Yes, I do. I do love you. Hey what ... Rach, what's with the tears? I think you are over this whole 'crying all the time because of the pregnancy' thing?"

I sniffle a bit more and smile through my tears up at him to show him that I'm happy. He loves me. Me. He was never in love with any of all those other women, but he loves me. I am the One for him.

All the feelings I ever had for him and that I thought dead and buried come rushing to the surface again, demanding to be acknowledged right now. I'm going to tell him something I should have told him a long time ago.

"It was never the pregnancy, Joe."

"What?"

"It was all you. When I cried all the time, when I couldn't keep my hands off you. That wasn't because of the pregnancy. That was because of you. Because I was so in love with you. And I was so afraid to admit it, even to myself, but I'm not anymore. I am in love with you."

He stares at me wide eyed, as if he doesn't get what I just told him.

"I love you, Joey."

When I see how his eyes fill with tears, how he smiles and looks just so unbelievably happy I want to kick myself for not telling him sooner, for not telling him the first time I felt it, all those months ago.

"I love you." It feels so good to finally say that to him and I'm going to say that the whole night if that's what it takes to make up for all the times I should have said it and didn't.

"I love you."

He cries openly now and it occurs to me that I've never seen him cry like that before. His knees give way under him and he sinks to the floor sobbing uncontrollably. I want to kiss him, make it better somehow, but I think this was one of our problems before. I always cut him off with kisses when he tried to say something. I'm not gonna make that mistake again.

xxxxxxxxx

tbc


	13. Chapter 11 Joey Part 1

**Chapter Eleven - Joey**

This has to be the most pathetic thing I ever did. The woman I am so much in love with just told me that she loves me back and everything I can do is sitting here on the floor and weeping like a baby.

Not that I'm not happy. It's just like I'm feeling too much right now. All the pain, the anger the guilt, every negative emotion I felt over the last year comes crashing down around me and is forcefully replaced by a happiness more joyful than I've ever experienced. It is like eating a lot of pizzas after starving for weeks. I just hope I'm not gonna be sick.

Rachel is kneeling beside me, softly stroking my cheek and telling me over and over again how much she loves me. I'm glad she does that because it doesn't feel real. After all the things I did to her, after all the mean things I said, she still loves me.

"I'm sorry, Rachel. For everything I did to you. For all the stupid things I said. I am so sorry."

"Shh, it's okay sweety. Just … just don't do it again, okay."

"I … I won't I swear. God I was such an idiot. I've really messed that up, didn't I?"

"You weren't the only one messing things up. I should have said something. I am so sorry I didn't. Instead of just … you know … doing stuff … I should have talked to you. Maybe we would've been able to figure it out together. I am sorry I was such a coward, I am sorry I didn't even try."

Looks like we are both sorry. And I guess she is right, we both made mistakes. I'll try to keep that in mind for future reference. If I'm ever going to be mad at her again, maybe I will just take a step back and look at the problem from her point of view.  
Well, there I go, thinking about relationship stuff. She changed me without me even noticing. Not that I'm complaining.

"So you want us to get it right this time?" I ask her after getting a grip. I've almost forgotten how much it warms my heart to see her smile.

"Yeah, I'd like that."

"Wanna move in tomorrow, bring Emma with you, be roommates again?"  
I know I shouldn't rush into a relationship like that but the thought of living with her again, of having Emma around, of being able to see Rachel again every day without having to hide what I feel for her makes me dizzy with excitement. I can only hope I didn't freak her out.

"I was hoping for a little more than roommates," she says cautiously.

In that moment it hits me how badly I had misunderstood her intentions when she was first telling me this a few weeks ago.

"…but that's your call."

"God, Rachel. I am so sorry I said all those things to you last time. I was thinking …"

"It's …. it's okay Joey, really. I think I know now what you were thinking. And it was my fault too. I should've been clearer about what I felt, what I wanted."

"What do you want now, Rach? Please tell me, because I really don't want us to screw that up again."

"I want … " she pauses for a moment collecting her thoughts. "I want to be your girlfriend. I want the two of us to have a serious relationship. I want to sleep in your bed every night and wake up beside you every morning. I want us to give Emma a home where she feels loved. I … I want Emma and you to be the most important people in my life."  
She lowers her eyes and looks at her hands probably thinking that she freaked **me** out.

I lift her chin up so that she can see I really mean what I'm about to say. "I want that too, Rach. All of that and then some. …. I love you."

And then I kiss her. God those lips! I can hardly remember why I had myself convinced that kissing her was a bad thing.  
Her mouth is trembling under mine but she doesn't kiss me back.  
When I pull back to look at her she is flushed and shaking, her pupils are so dilated her eyes almost seem black. I saw these signs often enough to know that she is going crazy with need. I wonder why she isn't doing anything.

Just when I am about to ask what's wrong, I remember something she said before.  
Something about doing stuff instead of talking. Something about always throwing herself at me.  
In my unbelievable idiocy I was doing something to the woman I am in love with that I never did to any other woman before. I made her feel needy and unwanted. I even made her beg.  
I am so ashamed of myself right now, I have half a mind to dig myself a hole somewhere and hide for the rest of my life.  
But I guess this would be the easy way out. What I have to do is to show her exactly how much she is wanted.

I place a trail of kisses along her jawline up to her ear. When I trace the outline of her ear with my tongue she gasps but still doesn't move.  
"I want to make love to you Rachel," I whisper into her ear. Then I grab her around her waist and pull her onto my lap. "I want to feel your skin against mine, I want to be inside of you, I want to make you feel good."

The moment I run out of things to say she kisses me. Only a short kiss on the lips.  
"You're done talking?" she asks and my first thought is she thinks I was talking too much and she wants me to stop. But then I realize she is really asking, she wants to know if it is okay for her to 'do stuff'.

She has no idea how glad I am I can shut up now. "Yup, done."

And then we're kissing, groping each other clumsily, tugging at our clothes frustrated. There is no finesse or sensuality - only two people who can't get enough of one another and on top of that - hadn't had sex for far too long. With the way she touches me – everywhere - and presses her body flush against mine I guess I'm gonna be lucky if I even make it out of my pants without embarrassing myself.

Rachel isn't that far behind me either. She still reacts strongly to my slightest touch.  
I have to admit that I sometimes suspected she was overacting for my benefit but since there is no need whatsoever to do this anymore, I guess this is real. Like she said, it's all me. This realization alone is enough to bring me dangerously close to the edge.  
My heartbeat pounds in my ears and then there is shouting. Who is shouting while I'm making out with Rachel?

Oh, it's Chandler. And the pounding … is also Chandler knocking on the door to the apartment. At least he had the decency not to come barging in since we hadn't locked the door.

"Rachel, I just wanna tell you that Emma is awake."

Rachel looks as frustrated as I feel. "Just a sec … I'm coming."  
"Or at least I would have been," she mutters under her breath while climbing off my lap.

My passion clouded brain needs a few seconds to process what she just said but then I can barely breathe because I'm laughing so hard. And so does Rachel.  
So we both just went from a crying jag to blood boiling passion and then to hysteric laughter in under 30 minutes. And if Rachel's appearance is any indication, there is no way in hell Chandler and Monica won't notice.

Who cares. She looks all sorts of beautiful with her puffy eyes, red cheeks and swollen lips. She always does.  
I remember all the times I looked at her while she was still living with me. When she came out of her bedroom in the morning, without make up and with unkempt hair all I could think was 'She is the most beautiful woman there ever was'.  
Even in those really bad times when I was hurting so much, it always calmed me down somehow, always gave me a bit of inner peace just to be able to be there looking at her.

* * *

"How do we look," asks Rachel when she is done straightening up her hair and clothes. 

I can't help but grin. "Like we just cried and laughed and made out."

"This is not good enough."

"Hey baby, you look beautiful and besides, do you really think Chandler and Monica don't know? There is no way Chandler would have knocked first if he hadn't suspected something."

"Well, I guess you're right. Let's go get my baby."

She takes my hand and holds it tightly smiling up to me and we make our way over to the other apartment.

When we step into Monica and Chandler's apartment, they're both standing there grinning at us like they just won the jackpot. Monica carries Emma and what would have had the potential to be a very awkward silence is soon interrupted by Emma calling for her mother.

"Oh sweety, there you are. Mommy missed you so much, come here." Rachel lets go of my hand and takes Emma from Monica.

"Uhm Rachel, I guess we need to change Emma's diapers. Wanna come to the nursery to show me how you do that? You know, I have to learn all this stuff."

Yeah, as if Monica doesn't know that already. Chandler is always complaining that a man of his age still has to 'play with dolls' in all those Lamaze classes Monica makes him go to with her.  
Rachel winks at me over her shoulder and takes off with Monica. Guess there will be some girl talk taking place in that room. And Chandler looks as if some boy talk is about to take place too.

"So, you two had a nice … uhm …conversation?" Chandler asks with feigned innocence.

"You could say that. I guess the both of you already know about the details, right?"

"Well, we sort of got all of the yelling, but the last part was a bit … muffled."

"There wasn't much talking in the last part," I say, getting a bit uncomfortable. Not only because remembering what took place a few minutes before makes my blood rush south again, but also because telling Chandler about what just happened between me and Rachel feels so new and strange somehow. I never had any inhibitions about talking about stuff like this before, now it feels like sharing something really intimate.

"You're not even gonna say Thank You to your old pal who made that happen?"

I raise an inquisitive eyebrow at him. "For not keeping your mouth shut about a secret I told you?"

"You think you guys would have eventually figured it out on your own?"

I don't even wanna think about what the two of us would have been able to do to each other in the future if Chandler would've kept quiet.  
"Maybe, maybe not. Probably not. How long have you known?"

"That would be about…" Chandler appears to have to think about that really hard, "… yeah, I guess about half an hour ago."

That's unexpected. I thought Chandler was meddling because he knew something.  
Chandler shrugs, looking a bit guilty. "I figured it out only after I accidentally spilled your secret to Rachel."

I chuckle. And this man thinks he is so smart.

"Of course now everything seems to be so obvious, but I had no clue. If I had known about that sooner, I surely would've said something already. I'd never thought that you two …I mean you and your holy rules of friendship and ex-girlfriends and best friend's relatives. The possibility of Rachel and you never even crossed my mind. "

"Hey, I'm still serious about those rules," I try to defend myself. "They just keep going out the window when you're crazy about someone. When you're falling in love."

He looks at me surprised. "You're in love with her?"

"Of course I am," I reply still defensive, "You think I would've gone through all this madness because of some meaningless fling?"

"But you went out with all these women."

"Nothing ever happened."

"WHAT?"

"I was too embarrassed to tell you but … nothing happened."

"Ever? Not one single time?"

"Nope, not once."

"Come on Joe, I can't believe this! It's you for Christ's sake. You're Joey."

"What's that supposed to mean? That I'm some male slut who can't control himself or something?"

Now I'm getting a bit irritated. Not even Rachel was making such a fuss about it although it seemed to be a big thing for her too. Which I can understand. After what I had gone through I started to understand why Ross' 'We were on a break' excuse never seemed to cut it with Rachel. Chandlers disbelief on the other hand is almost insulting.

"No, no, sorry Joey. I didn't mean that. It is just … It has to be almost ten months or something. That would've driven even me nuts."

"There were other things driving me nuts during that time."

He stares at me, obviously drawing a blank. Maybe an example will help.  
"Try to imagine you and Monica breaking up because you said something stupid and you think that she hates you now but you still love her. Would your first priority be to sleep with other women in the meantime?"

His answer comes more quickly than I would've thought. "No, definitely not."

"And then when you would start to become friends again and you would hope against hope that she might return your feelings for her, would you take another woman to your bed?"

"No, that would be just wrong."

"And when one day out of the blue, just when you think she hates you again, she tells you that she loves you, that she always did, even when you were a complete and utter idiot, would you ever so much as look at somebody else again?"

He looks at me smiling and I can see that there is no need for me to explain myself further.  
"You realize how deep you're in, don't you buddy?"

"I do. Weird thing is, it feels as if this is what I was always looking for."

"Does she know how serious this is for you?"

"I think so. I sort of told her."

"Sort of?" He shakes his head almost sadly.  
"Well, Joey. Let me tell you something from my inexhaustible amount of experience in the field of long lasting relationships: Regardless of what women may think of themselves, they can't read minds. They don't know what you feel, unless you specifically tell them. They don't complain all the time of men being unable to communicate their feelings because they want to hear constantly how much we love them, they just don't understand us.  
They are so full of themselves about being the sensible and emotional ones but when it comes down to it, a woman could stand right in front of you looking into your eyes and she wouldn't be able to tell if you hate her or love her."

Matches with my experience. Life would be so much easier if it would work this way.

"So, long story short – tell her. Never assume, never think or guess or suppose – just speak. Tell her twice if you're not sure you made yourself clear."

Thinking of what Monica and Rachel would say if they could hear him say that makes me snicker. "Wow, you should hear yourself, Chan."

"I know, it's just …" he looks down at his feet still sad for some reason.

"What is it?"

"I just don't want you to get hurt again. Seeing you suffer like that for this long … I … I don't want that to happen again. You just be careful …"

I don't let him finish and hug him instead.

"Thank you man," I murmur, dangerously close to tear up again. God, there must have been something in my cereals this morning. "I wouldn't have been able to make it through this without you."

After another few moments of hugging I break away and grin at him. Chandler's eyes are conspicuously bright as well.

"And Thank You for telling her. I probably would never had the balls."

There is some commotion in the other room and a few seconds later the girls come out giggling. It would certainly be interesting to know what they were talking about.

Monica looks at me funny and now I'm really curious what Rachel told her. Good thing I certainly will have the opportunity to ask her.  
Every time I think about Rachel and me being together now, a warm wave of happiness washes over me and leaves me grinning like an imbecile.

We will be together. She loves me. It is still too much to comprehend.

Rachel smiles at me from across the room and my breath hitches in my chest. She is so beautiful.

I have no idea how long we were standing there staring at each other but I'm shaken out of my reverie by Emma trying to make people notice she is still there.

"Hey, pumpkin," I say taking a few steps in her direction.

"I am so sorry I walked out on you before, Emma. It didn't have anything to do with you, okay? I love you sweetheart."

Emma seems to have no hard feelings about the incident from before since she already wants me to hold her again.

After Rachel had given her to me she puts her hand on my arm and looks intently at Emma and me. "You think she will be okay with all the changes, with having two families and all that? Am I messing up her life?" Rachel asks with honest concern in her voice.

I want to tell her that having to live with a mother who is unhappy and lonely would probably mess up Emma's life much more but I guess she knows that.  
Maybe she just wants me to assure her that everything's gonna be alright. I can do that, even if I'm not so sure myself if we're doing the right thing.

"Hey, Emma sweety. See your mommy over there? Well, I'm very much in love with her and I want to be in a relationship with her, you know? As a couple. So that would mean you'd be living with us and sometimes with your daddy. I was meaning to ask you if that's okay with you."

Emma is babbling away happily in her adorable nonsense baby language.

"She's okay with it," I tell Rachel with the most serious expression I can muster, only to break out into a wide grin seconds later.

"Oh Emma, baby, I'm in love with uncle Joey too and I can't tell you how glad I am that we have your approval," Rachel says to Emma smiling.

I lean down and kiss her.

After a while someone says behind us, "Aww you guys, you should look at yourself, you're so cute together."

It is Monica with tears glistening in her eyes. Looks like the pregnancy hormones got to her too. And for that matter, also to Chandler who frantically wipes at his eyes and tells Monica accusingly, "You know, it is so dusty in here, I always get something in my eyes!"

Monica pats his arm. "You're right Chandler, I really should start cleaning the place again, right?"

At that Chandler looks about ready to kick himself.

I turn my attention back to the two girls in front of me. "So, Emma. I'm afraid telling your father about your mom and me won't be quite as easy."

Rachel's smile falters and she tightens her grip on my arm. "You want to go talk to Ross?"

For some reason I had hoped I wouldn't need to argue with her about that.  
"He deserves to know what is going on, Rach. I have to tell him. And I want to tell him … I want him to know about us, can't you understand that?"

"I understand that Joey and I want him to know about us too. I just don't want to let you go just yet, that is all."

"I don't want to leave you alone either, but it's almost Emma's dinner time anyway and you have to start packing all your stuff and I won't be long, I promise."

She nods bravely and tries to smile again. "Okay."

My hand itches to brush that strand of hair away from her face, but since I can't use my hands right now, I kiss her instead.

"But we're gonna miss you, right Emma?" With that she takes Emma from me and right on cue Emma starts making her 'this is absolutely not going the way I want' face which means she will start screaming within the next five seconds.

"You can stop with that drama young lady, because after today, you and your mom will live with me again and you're gonna see me almost every day, so be good and don't give your mommy a hard time, will you?"

Emma looks at me, obviously recognizing my tone of voice. I'm not gonna tell anyone because they're not gonna believe me anyway, but I'm sure she can understand exactly what people are saying to her.

And as if to prove my point, she stays quiet.

"Where do I find Ross?" I ask Rachel.

"He is teaching his advanced classes right now, if you take a cab you can catch him in his office after the class ends."

With a look at Rachel and a wave at Emma I'm out the door preparing myself for one of the hardest conversations I ever had with one of my friends.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

tbc


	14. Chapter 11 Joey Part 2

A/N: Thanks again for the nice reviews everyone. You guys are the best. This gives me the motivation to keep writing. Thanks.

**

* * *

****Chapter 11 - Joey - Part 2**

I'm in Ross' office, nervously pacing back and forth. When I got here, he was still teaching and his assistant told me to wait in his office.

I've spent the cab ride trying to prepare a speech for what I want to say to him. Trying to determine how much he has to know, if I should just leave out a few parts of the story.  
But I can look at the problem from every angle, if I want to do it right, he has to know what was going on the whole time. If no one else has to know, he has.

I hear a woman giggle in the hall and then it sounds like people kissing. Heh, students.

Then the door to Ross's office suddenly flies open, making me jump and tumbling in comes Ross and a woman, who I think is Charlie, kissing without paying any attention to who might be in the room.

Great, what a totally crappy start for this conversation if he is mad at me for interrupting him like this.  
Ross blindly closes the door and fumbles for the lock. It occurs to me that if I don't announce my presence right now, I might get to see more than just kissing.  
I clear my throat loudly, without much effect.

"Uh … Ross."

That makes the two of them jump apart, looking around wildly. "Whoa … Joey … what …you scared me."

"I'm sorry, Ross. I came to talk to you about something but I don't want to interrupt … uh …anything."

It takes Ross a few moments to gather his wits but he pulls himself together pretty smoothly.  
"Charlie, this is my friend Joey, Joey this is Professor Charlie Wheeler, a colleague and … my girlfriend."  
They share a happy smile.

"Nice to finally meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too, Joey. You're playing Doctor Drake Ramoray on 'Days of our lives', right?"

Well, she is nice. Proudly smiling I say, "Yeah, that would be me."

"Why don't I give you guys some time to talk while I finish my paperwork for today and you pick me up when you're ready, okay?"

"Okay," Ross agrees and kisses her lightly on the cheek. "See you later, honey."

When Charlie is out the door, Ross looks at me, slightly embarrassed. "That was definitely not the way I wanted to introduce her to my friends."

"I'm sorry Ross."

"It's okay, Joey. So … what is so important you came all the way down here to talk to me?"

His face suddenly falls. "There is nothing wrong with Rachel or Emma, is it? You would have paged me if it were, right?"

"No, no Ross, they're alright."

"Good."

He sits down heavily in his chair at his desk and motions for me to sit too. "So what's up?"

"It actually has something to do with Rachel."

He raises his eyebrows questioningly but doesn't say anything so I continue.

"I want her and Emma to move in with me. We finally talked and we think it would be a good idea. But we're not just gonna be roommates. We're gonna be a couple. I'm in love with her, Ross."

Phew, that was easier than I thought. At least this part.

"Are you kidding, Joey?" Ross asks incredulously.

"No, I'm not. Why would I make fun of something like this?"

"So you are really in love with her?"

"I am. I love Rachel." God, I still can't believe how good it feels to say that out loud.

"And she loves you, too?"

I can't prevent an idiotic wide grin to spread over my face but I would rather not grin right in to Ross's face while telling him, because I really don't want it to look like a joke. One would think as an actor I should be able to control my facial expressions, but every time I think of Rachel being in love with me, I can't help but grin from ear to ear.

So I hide my face by looking at the table in front of me. "She told me so, just an hour ago."

Ross shakes his head with the weirdest expression on his face. It looks like he finds that amusing, but what do I know.  
"You're not messing around with her, are you? I mean, you are really serious about her, right?"

"Of course I am, Ross! This is not a game for me, I am in love with her."

He sighs defeated and continues, "Just don't hurt her, okay." As an afterthought he adds, "Like I did".

This is my cue to confess the other things I've been meaning to tell him.  
"Well, I guess ... I ... uhm ... I sort of already did."

"You what! You cheated on her, you ..."

"No, no no no, wait Ross, I didn't cheat on her. I would never ..."  
Okay, deep breath, I have to start from the beginning or he won't understand what I'm trying to say.  
"This is actually the hard part of this conversation, but please let me finish, okay."

He nods and motions for me to go on.

"Rachel and I had these feelings for quite some time. But we didn't tell each other and we weren't really acknowledging them, but there was this attraction, like some sort of magnetism or something ... and ... well... we .. we acted on that."

"Huh..?" For a doctor, Ross is sometimes really slow on the uptake.

"We had sex."

"I really hope this story has a point because if not, I don't want to know anything about **this**."

"You said you'd let me finish."

"Okay."

"But it was complicated. There was this history with you and her, the fact that we didn't know what the other one was thinking or feeling and the pregnancy and ..."

"Wait, wait, wait ... What pregnancy?"

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. "Rachel's pregnancy."

"You slept with her while she was pregnant?" he practically yells.

So this is not going particularly well. Not that I'm surprised.

"Hey, she was pregnant, not sick. And she was ... uhm ... erotically charged... and we always..."

He holds his hands up. "Stop right there Joe. **Way** too much information."

Again with the weird head shaking.  
"I can't believe you guys go back that far. If that took place while she was living with you, it has to be almost a year."

"Yeah, it has."

"So what happened?"

"I couldn't handle it anymore. The secrecy, the emotional rollercoaster … the guilt…"

"And..?"

"I suggested that she should move in with you."

"So this whole thing wasn't a brilliant idea, it was your way of breaking up with her?"

"It wasn't exactly a break up, there wasn't even a relationship. But yes, I did push her away, I did say things I didn't really mean and was later very sorry about."

Maybe if I would have looked up at him the moment I was finished with that sentence, I would have seen Ross's fist flying at my face and maybe would've even be able to duck.  
Instead I'm seeing stars right now.

When my eyes can focus again I look into the face of a very angry Ross who is yelling at me.  
"How could you do this to her! Do you have any idea how much you had hurt her? Did you know that she cried herself to sleep every night after she moved in with me?"

Suddenly I'm glad I didn't have the opportunity to duck because I obviously deserved the punch.

"No, I didn't know that. I was actually convinced I did the right thing. I thought she'd belong with you and her baby with its father."

That calms him down a bit. He rubs his forehead and shakes his head.  
"I always thought it had something to do with me. With us, or with the baby. I tried to cheer her up and when she kissed me that one evening, I did my best to let her down easy."

It is a miracle to me how any red blooded man could turn down Rachel.

He laughs mirthlessly. "A lot of stuff makes **much** more sense now."

"What stuff?"

"The kissing incident for starters. It actually hurts a bit to think that she was using me to get over you and not trying to win me back. I mean, when I think about it now, she seemed almost relieved that I turned her down and afterwards it was the first time we really talked about our relationship like grown ups. Without placing blame. And when you started helping out with Emma she was … I hadn't seen her that happy since the day Emma was born."

I was happy back then too. Great thing is, I'm gonna be even happier in the future.

"Why didn't you want her to move in with you again? She was really mad at you for that, you know."

Guess I'm gonna be in for another punch in a few moments.

"The situation from before she moved out hadn't really changed. We still hadn't talked about our feelings, there was still this strong attraction and I just didn't want to go through all of that again."

"So you broke up with her **again?"**

"It still wasn't a break up but yes, I managed to hurt her again."

"Joey, I swear, if my hand wouldn't hurt, I would punch you again."

I don't know what to say to that. He is right. When I think about all that it is even more of a miracle to me that Rachel still loves me. I clearly don't deserve it.

"Why didn't you just tell her about your feelings? I mean, you two spent hours together just talking after Emma was born. For about five months all I ever heard from her was 'Joey told me this', 'Joey told me the funniest story today', 'did you know that Joey did that', ad infinitum. Why didn't you tell her the one thing she should have known? Everything would've been so much easier."

"Like I said. I felt intimidated by her history with you, then there was the pregnancy, after that the baby, I didn't want to wreck our friendship and I hadn't any experience with being in love so I just thought it would be best to not say anything. And … look who's talking."

The way it looks it dawns on Ross what I mean. He's smiling a bit apologetically. "Yeah, you're right. I guess it's a men's thing, we suck at this."

"Well Chandler always found the right time to say the right thing."

"I said it is a men's thing."

I guess it is a good sign we both chuckle at this.

"So what made you tell her in the end?"

"I didn't tell her."

"You didn't? So she told you?"

"No, Chandler sort of clued her in by babbling about something I told him a few months ago."

Now Ross seems really amused. "Chandler, huh?" he chuckles.

The similarity between Ross and me is not lost on me. "He obviously still has it," I grin back.

"I guess next time Rachel wants to know how a guy feels about her, she can spare herself the effort and just ask Chandler," Ross says clearly entertained by his own joke.

I on the other hand don't find it quite that funny. The thought of any guy – even a hypothetical one - having feelings for Rachel makes me sick.

So I try to change the subject. There was something that made my ears perk up earlier.  
"So, were you jealous when Rachel talked about me all the time?" I ask seriously. I don't want show off or something, I want to know if Ross still has feelings for Rachel. He is the only one who is allowed to, although it will make things complicated yet again.

"No, I wasn't jealous. Why would I be? I mean, even if I would have been still in love with her at the time – which I wasn't – I would've never thought Rachel would go for a guy like you. That's why I didn't pick up on all the clues that were clearly all around me all the time."

"What do you mean a guy like me? What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing. It's just ... you know ... you're Joey."

The second time today someone uses this phrase to explain something to me. It really starts to grate on me.  
"And...?" I prompt him trying not to sound as irritated as I am.

"I mean, she broke up with me because I cheated on her, so falling in love with **you** seems a bit like an illogical choice to put it mildly."

It is devastating to think that this is all my friends ever saw in me. First Chandler, now Ross. No wonder Rachel had such a hard time to acknowledge what she felt for me.

"Because I have to have it with every skirt who crosses my path, is that what you're saying?"

Ross squirms. "Joey don't you see how it had to look to everybody?"

"I understand how it looked to everybody, but you guys are my friends, you're supposed to know me better than this! I thought you guys knew that I wanted to have a happy and stable relationship as much as you did. The only difference was that I didn't spend my time waiting for the right woman to fall into my lap."

I can't help but grin when it occurs to me that this was almost exactly what happened with me and Rachel.

"Although it seems to me that it would be the right way to do it. Look at Chandler and Monica. Or you and Charlie. Mike and Pheebs. Maybe it's true that the right woman finds you just when you're not looking."

For some reason there is a look of guilt in Ross' face.  
"Look Joey, I didn't mean to imply that you're a bad guy or a pathological cheater. I really did not. Because truth is, what I was thinking when Rachel kept talking about you all the time was , I wish she would be together with Joey'. I mean, I know you really care about Emma, I could see that Rachel and you were great together. Rachel couldn't end up with a better guy."

I am positively floored now. Whatever I expected to be the outcome of this conversation, it was definitely not this.  
He approves. Just like that. Ross thought that it would be a good idea even before Rachel and I had figured that out.  
I totally have to get myself a new set of problems because the ones I carried around with me for a year just vanished into thin air. All of them.

"I am still mad at you for being such an idiot, though."

Thank God, not all of them. I wouldn't have known how to handle this.  
I nod confirming.

Something catches Ross' eye. "Does it hurt much?"

"Huh?"

Ross gestures vaguely in the direction of my face. "You should probably put some ice on that."

I hadn't noticed that I was touching my face.  
"The funny thing is, you hit the same spot as Rachel back then."

Difference is, Rachel's punch did hurt a lot less. At least physically.

"You deserved it."

"Yeah I did."

In both cases.

"I can't believe she is giving you another chance."

"I can't believe that either but I'm not about to screw it up again."

Awkward silence fills the room for a while.

"So you and Charlie, huh? How's that going?"

"Amazing," he suddenly beams. "She is so smart and sexy and … you know …hot."

I noticed that one, but refrain from commenting on it since I am now a man in a serious relationship and funny enough, I really don't think that any woman could possibly be hotter than Rachel.  
My Rachel.  
If this is a dream, I don't want to wake up ever.

"We are working on that project together and maybe we will even go on a dig in the future and …"

He rambles on about all the things he has to say about Charlie and his work and his plans for the future and I find myself listening to him. Because he wouldn't tell me any of this if I wouldn't have been forgiven, if he wouldn't consider me his friend.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

tbc


	15. Chapter 12 Rachel Part 1

**Chapter Twelve - Rachel**

I'm packing.

As soon as Joey left Monica's apartment to go talk with Ross, I took my daughter and ran over to Ross's, putting Emma in her playpen and started packing our stuff.  
We wasted ten months. I'm not about to waste even one more hour than absolutely necessary.

As always when I'm nervous about something lately, I'm talking to Emma about it. She likes to hear my voice and I find it easier to deal with everything that runs through my mind if I can actually say it out loud.  
By now Emma surely knows all about my work and the people there and unfortunately I probably also gave her a wrong impression about Joey in the last four weeks. Although I think that she didn't take what I said too seriously since she probably heard the other side of the story every time she was with him.

"You know sweety, what uncle Joey said before about us living with him again? It's true. We will and you have no idea how happy mommy is about that. So tomorrow, when uncle Joey and mommy are moving all those boxes with your stuff and the few boxes with my stuff over to his apartment, you will stay with uncle Chandler and aunt Monica, okay? Don't give them a hard time and don't let aunt Monica carry you around all day. She is having a baby soon and isn't supposed to carry anything."

The thought of Monica gives me pause for a while. I was so wrapped up in my own problems lately that I couldn't even be really happy for her being pregnant. I knew how long she dreamed of that. As a friend, I was a failure the last months and I'm determined to make it up to her.

"Yeah, be nice to aunt Monica. Not just because she is having a baby but also … this thing about uncle Joey and me isn't that easy for her. I think she always wished for daddy and me to end up together. But you know, daddy loves aunt Charlie and I love uncle Joey so very much and he loves me, I just hope it will be okay for her eventually."

It was not like Monica gave me a hard time about Joey and me. She was so genuinely interested, seemed so happy for me – for us, it made me see how much of a great friend she is. It was then when I vowed to myself to start being a good friend again, too.

As soon as the door was shut behind us, when she had ushered me into the nursery, she started squealing.

"Weeee, Rachel, you and Joey? I can't believe this! How did this happen? Chandler tried to tell me what he thinks was going on but it sounded so weird, so what happened, why didn't anyone know about this and why are you looking like hell and why …"

Her excitement startled me and since I hadn't even sorted out myself what just had happened between Joey and me, it took me a while to collect my thoughts.  
"Whoa, whoa Monica … take a deep breath, sit and calm down. You're gonna have a hyperactive child if you keep doing this."

"Tell me Rachel or I won't calm down and then it's your fault if I have a hyperactive child!"

I had no idea where to start so I just started at the beginning.  
"Joey and I go back about a year now. We started to develop feelings for one another around the time I was five months pregnant."

"Well the thing with the hormones started already in my fourth month."

So why do they not write that into those books if every woman has to go through this? Maybe it's like that thing with the condoms, maybe they do, maybe we just don't think it's that much of a big deal until we're faced with the consequences. Although Monica had it easy, the solution to her problem was sleeping right next to her.

"Yeah, that was what I was thinking at first, that it was still the hormones. So I thought just having sex with Joey would solve the problem."

"You asked him to sleep with you and he said yes?"

Uhm … not quite.

"Well, I didn't really ask him. We just … did it."

"Wow. But it didn't solve the problem, did it?"

"It didn't. It made it worse. It made me realize I was falling in love with him."

"You love him?"

The answer to this question was so easy but it took me a while to tell her because I knew it wouldn't be easy for her to hear that. I turned to her and looked at her fully, intending to make her see how serious I was about that.  
"Yes, I do Monica, I really do."

"What …what about Ross? Why did you move in with him again?"

"Joey wanted me to, because he thought it would clean up the mess we both made by hiding our feelings from one another. Because he thought it would be good for me and Ross, and Emma."

"Was it?"

"In retrospect, yeah, I think it was. I was mad at Joey for so long for making me move out, but when I look at it now, it was the right thing. Ross could really be a father, had the chance to get to know his child from the first day on and Ross and I had the chance to see where we both were."

It's amazing how clear that seems to be now. There are so many things I don't even need to ask Joey anymore, so many things I understood right at the moment when he told me he had been in love with me for the whole time. Because all the pain we caused us, all the wrong decisions we made were rooted in one single cause. It's like we cut the Gordian knot and everything just unravels.

"And that was…?"

"Monica … Ross and I were so much in love with each other. But we hurt each other so badly in the end, that every attempt to bridge that growing gap between us was destined to fail. We're not in love anymore. We love our child and we're great friends, we're always gonna be there for one another, but there will never be anything else anymore. I'm sorry Mon, it's definitely over."

Monica shook her head sadly. "You don't have to apologize to me. I mean … I can see how happy you are now, I can't remember when I've seen you glowing like this the last time. It's just …it feels weird."

Time to lighten the mood a bit.  
"Not to me. Besides, have you ever thought about how we felt about you and Chandler?"

"That was **so** different."

"Yes it was, in a lot of ways. But it was also two friends suddenly falling in love with each other and the others having to deal with it. I would really want you guys to be happy for us, that would mean so much to me … to both of us."

Monica smiled wistfully at that. "I am happy for you Rachel, I couldn't stand seeing you miserable."

I hugged her. "Thank you Mon, thank you. You have no idea how happy that makes me."

After hugging for a while I turned my attention to my child again and changed her diapers.

"So, how is he?" Monica suddenly asked, fidgeting with one of Emma's baby toys, not looking at me directly.

"What do you want to know, Mon? All the gory details?" I teased.

"NO! Of course not. I mean … yeah, a little bit. Is he really that great … you know … in bed?"

The box of baby-wipes I was holding dropped out of my suddenly shaking hands and I felt the skin of my face burning with a deep blush.  
It wasn't that I was surprised that Monica asked. We talked about stuff like that before. And I know since she had a crush on Joey when he first moved in with Chandler, she was always curious about this side of him.  
But instead of providing me with a sufficient answer, my brain chose to show me a lot of pictures that rendered me out of breath and speechless for a while.

"That good, huh," Monica joked.

"He is … indescribable. I mean ... all the experience really pays off, you know."

"Wow. So what are the shaking hands all about?"

"It has been ten months, Monica. I'm in a really strange place right now."

"Ten months? So nothing happened in those months after Emma's birth when he spent almost all his time with you?"

"No! We were trying to rebuild our friendship. Besides, to let you in on a little secret, giving birth takes you mind off sex for quite some time."

"And before, you know, after all the yelling?"

"We just kissed."

"So we interrupted you?"

"Mon, I am really on edge about that, so please let's not talk about it anymore or I will go out there and have sex with him right on your white couch."

"Ew, Rachel, seriously. Don't. The only people allowed to have sex on that couch are Chandler and I."

Ew and … ew. The mental pictures from before were replaced by some that cooled me down considerably.

"And what is your relationship like? How does Joey make you feel, let's say in comparison to Ross."

"I can't compare Joey to Ross. They're so different."

"I don't mean comparing the men, I mean comparing what you feel for them. What your love for them is like."

I knew what she meant, I could guess what she really wanted to know. And it's not that easy to describe.

Ross was there when I started to live my own life. When I was just a spoiled little girl who didn't even know how to do her own laundry. When I was unfinished somehow. He showed me my possibilities, he showed me what life, what love could be like. I will always keep my first true love in my heart as a very precious memory.

Joey brings out feelings, tendencies in me that I didn't even know existed. The burning desire, the primal, gut level hunger, the boundless abandon I experienced every time I was with him. It was like my ability to love had matured and grown up as much as I had.  
Joey makes me see the world with different eyes. Through him I become aware of how much life has to offer, how precious any moment of it is. He makes me feel alive.

"Ross showed me the stars," I told Monica finally, not just referring to our first night in the museum.  
"Joey…," I paused, unsure if Monica would understand what I was trying to say, "Joey makes me touch them."

* * *

When I finally hear the lock of the apartment door that indicates that Ross is coming home, I have to restrain myself from running to him and ask him a million questions. Joey hasn't called yet and I have no idea how their conversation went. 

I'm almost done packing and I guess I still have to talk to Ross about everything so I'm really quite nervous. Emma is already in her bed, sleeping peacefully as if she knew that her mother would need some time to sort her life out.

After Ross had taken off his jacket I can see that he presses a bag of crushed ice against the knuckles of his right hand.

My questions momentarily forgotten, I run over to him, worried. "What is up with your hand?"

I lift the bag to see that his knuckles are red and swollen, a few of them are already turning blue.

"Something hit my knuckles."

"What was it?"

"Uhm ... Joey's jaw."

The bag with ice drops out of my hands and for a moment, I don't know what to do first. My concern for Joey wins.  
"Is he alright?" I say toneless, terrified.

"Yeah, he is. There is a bruise on his jaw and I guess it'll hurt for a while but he'll live."

Time to vent my anger. "I can't believe you hit him! Why the hell did you hit him! What were you, jealous?"

"No, no Rachel. I wasn't. Please, listen to me."

I scowl at him. He'd better have a very good explanation for this although I doubt that.

"He came to my office and told me you two wanted to live together. I was glad since I knew you wanted that. Then he told me you guys are in love, which was unexpected but I didn't have problem with this either. But then he told me all the stuff that happened between you in the past year and I just … I couldn't help it Rach. I was there when you moved out of his apartment, I heard you cry every night and I felt so bad about that because I didn't know how to help you."

All my anger at him leaves me at that. I mean I always knew that he noticed my distress but I never thought he knew so much about it.  
"I can't believe you heard me cry," I say quietly.

"And I can't believe he'd hurt you so bad. Not only once, twice. If had gone with my emotions, he would have a matching bruise on the other side of his jaw, too."

For some reason I can't picture Joey getting hit by Ross at all. If they would fight against each other, there would be no question where I would place my bet.  
"He didn't try to defend himself?"

"No, he said he deserved it, he even told me you'd hit him too."

That horrible moment comes back to me unbidden, making me angry again. Not only at Ross.

"Yes I did, but that was in the heat of the moment and I'd never do that again, it obviously didn't solve anything. I mean, yes he'd hurt me but believe me, he already paid for that. A hundred times over. I don't know how that talk between the two of you went and judging from this, I guess not that well. But however things are between you two now, I don't want you to do that to him ever again, Ross. I mean that. Even if he thinks he deserves it, he does not."

"It's okay Rachel, it wasn't that bad. We're men, you know. We sometimes need to express ourselves – nonverbally."

He says that in a way that sounds borderline amused. I'm not amused at all.

"Well then find a way that doesn't involve bruises and swollen knuckles."

The amusement leaves Ross' face and I think he starts to take my concerns seriously.  
"Rachel, please, calm down. Like I said, it wasn't that bad. After the whole punching incident, we had a pretty good talk. I told him about me and Charlie and I guess we're still friends."

This is something probably only men can manage. Going from punching each other in the face to talking about relationships and ending in being friends. Not that I have anything against that.

"That's great Ross. I know it means a lot to Joey. He always felt like he was betraying you by being in love with me."

"That wouldn't have been a problem for me. But that he'd hurt you …I'm still mad at him for that."

"You know it takes two people to mess up things that bad, right?"

I smile at him a bit and he smiles back, understanding what I wanted to imply.

"Yeah but, are you really willing to give him a second chance after what he did?"

"I didn't really give him a first one. He never knew what I felt for him. What we had was never real. I want to see how it is when it's real."

Ross doesn't say anything to that and looks around instead.

"So, I see you're all packed up already. You're moving out tomorrow?"

"Yeah. It's Saturday and Monica and Chandler already offered to take Emma, so …"

"Charlie and I can help, too."

"Thanks Ross, that'd be great."

I am so thankful that he's making this so easy for me. I had so many fears about that, so many scenarios in my head how bad he could take this. So I walk over to him and hug him tightly. He puts his arms around me and just holds me for a while.  
"It feels weird somehow. Like it's really over now, like starting something new."

"Are you sad?"

"A little. I really loved having you and Emma around – most of the time."

I think I know at which times he wasn't.

"I loved living with you too, Ross. I mean, I think it was a good idea."

"Are you sad?"

"Only a little. I'm happy and nervous, excited. Everything happened so fast, I'm still a bit overwhelmed."

"I think you two will be great together. I always thought that when I saw you for the past months."

To say that this surprises me would be a vast understatement.

"You did?"

"Yeah, everyone could see that. We just didn't comment on it because you two kept denying that there was anything going on."

"There wasn't."

"Except for New Year's when we already wondered if we should get you two a room."

Oh.

"But … I thought no one noticed."

"Rachel, it did attract some attention that you started kissing at 'four' and let's just say the nature of the kiss wasn't quite appropriate for the occasion."

"God, that is so embarrassing. I was out of my mind back then. Did everybody see this?"

"I don't know. But maybe I should've talked to you about it. Not leave it to Chandler again."

"Joey told you about the thing with Chandler?"

"He told me a lot of things. He told me how much he loves you and he made it kinda hard not to believe how serious he is about that."

Joey loves me.

How long will it take to get used to that thought? Because I feel like I just fell in love. There are butterflies in my stomach and my knees are getting weak every time I think of him. Every time I think of us living together again an overwhelming rush of happiness makes my heart flutter.  
Not that I'm complaining. It always felt like a loss that I didn't experience that when I fell in love with him, because let's face it, it's just plain nice.

"You should see yourself Rachel. It's a pity I won't have that much chances for teasing you about being lovesick like that."

Thank God I'm not the only one being lovesick around here.

"You should see yourself with Charlie. Everyone around you ceases to exist if you're with her."

"Is it that obvious?"

"Oh no, only if you're not blind. But I'm so glad you found her."

"As am I. And I'm happy for you too, Rachel."

We keep hugging for a while until the phone rings. I almost fall all over myself trying to get to it because I'm sure it's for me.  
I take the phone and hurry to my room.

"Hello."

"Hi Rach. It's Joey. I just came back from Ross' office and wanted to tell you that everything went … well."

I smile to myself. "Safe for your bruised jaw, right?"

"You've already talked to him?"

"Yeah, he's here. I've already bitten his head off for punching you."

"It's nothing. You probably won't even see it anymore by tomorrow."

The butterflies getting all worked up in my belly. "I can't wait for tomorrow."

"Me neither. Love you Rachel."

I have to sit down on my bed since my legs don't carry me anymore. "I love you too, Joey. Good night. Sleep well."

God, why can't this night not be over already?

"I don't think I'll sleep tonight but, good night to you too. Give Emma a kiss from me, will you?"

"She's already sleeping and you can give her a kiss tomorrow yourself. And while you're at it, her mommy wouldn't mind that either."

"Can't wait, Rach."

If he keeps saying that I'll forget that I have a child an run over to him right now.

"Moving is gonna be a lot of work, Emma has tons of stuff."

"It's gonna be worth it."

"Yeah it is."

"Good night Rach."

"Good night Joey."

It takes me awhile to get a grip but eventually I take the phone out to the living room again. Ross is sitting on the couch, leafing through some science magazines.

"That was Joey, huh?"

"Yeah."

"I could tell by the dreamy smile. So when will you go over?"

"I already told you that. We move out tomorrow."

"I don't mean move out, I mean … you know … visit your new boyfriend."

They way Ross says that, wiggling his eyebrows and trying his best to wink at me suggestively, he makes me laugh out loud.

"Ross, I can't just go visit my … boyfriend."

I will definitely have to get used to calling him that. Not that it will be a problem.

"Why not? I didn't hit him that bad."

That makes me laugh again.

"I know Ross, I figured that. He could still speak."

"No seriously Rachel, why don't you go over? I'll watch Emma for the night. You can be back in the morning when she needs her breakfast and you can spend the night over at his place."

"You really want to do that?"

"Rachel, when you don't live here anymore, I will have to take Emma for the night sooner or later. Why don't we just try if it works? If it does, you can have your private time with Joey and I can have my time with Charlie and everyone is gonna be happy. What do you say?"

I don't say anything and hug him instead.

"Thank you Ross. You have no idea what that means to me."

He shrugs a bit and grins mischievously, "I think I can empathize. As soon as you're out the door, I'll call Charlie and tell her to come here."

For a split second, I think about staying here. But this is Ross, if I can't trust him with our daughter, I can't trust anyone.

Just when I'm about to run out the door in my t-shirt and sweatpants, it occurs to me that I probably should dress up a bit. Joey is gonna see me in sweatpants often enough for … a very long time.  
In a matter of seconds I'm in my room, reopening all of the boxes I so carefully packed a few hours ago, rummaging through their contents in the desperate attempt to find something suitable to wear.

But what do you wear on an occasion like this?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

tbc


	16. Chapter 12 Rachel Part 2

**Chapter 12 - Rachel - Part 2**

Do not run. Do **not** run.

I repeat that mantra in my head over and over again, while I make my way over to Joey's. I force myself to walk slowly, to not take two stairs at a time. I don't want to show up at his place sweaty and looking as if I just won the New York Marathon. Besides, running would probably be all kinds of uncomfortable in the high heels I'm wearing to the dress I picked out.

It feels like going on a first date. No, not a first date. More like on a date where you think the guy would tell you he loves you. No, that's not it either. I can't put it in any category. I mean we know each other for an eternity, we know we love each other, we've even already slept together. But still, tonight feels like a first time in many ways.

When I'm standing in the hall outside Joey's apartment, I am so nervous and excited, my heart almost jumps out of my throat. I honestly feel like I'm going to faint.

I didn't tell Joey I was coming over, I wanted to surprise him. Now the question of what he would say to me showing up like this adds to all the other questions and insecurities I brought with me tonight.

Just when I'm raising my hand to knock, the door behind me opens, startling me. Chandler comes out, his back to me, pulling a big garbage bag out the door.

"Whose body are you trying to get rid of, Chandler?"

He nearly jumps out of his skin.

"Geez, Rachel, you scared me. And this is all the stuff out of Monica's secret closet. In her endless wisdom she decided that I should throw all the stuff away tonight. And since she's pregnant and won't take no for an answer, here I am."

"I feel your pain, Chandler. I just finished packing all my stuff."

Chandler is still busy with trying the best way to move the bag. "If you came to see Monica, she is at the restaurant tonight. She…" Now he starts noticing my raised eyebrows. "Ohh…ohh…oh of course, you didn't come to see Monica. You came to see Joey."

I just nod, getting all nervous again by just thinking of what this night might have in store for me.

"Rach, I just wanted to tell you … not that I think you're not good for him, but … just…"

I've never seen Chandler Bing so at loss for words. But I know what he wants to say so I put him out of his misery.

"I love him, Chandler. And I promise, I'm never gonna hurt him again. Ever."

He smiles somewhat relieved. "Okay, that's good to know."

"You know Chandler, Joey is lucky to have a friend like you. I'm lucky to have a friend like you. We owe you a lot. Thank you."

Chandler lets go of his garbage bag and gives me a hug. I cling to him for a while, feeling happy about how everything seems to fall back into place.

"You know Chan, you might be my best friend, but if you keep hugging my girlfriend like that, I don't guarantee for anything."

We both spin around to see Joey leaning against the doorframe, looking only slightly amused.

Chandler lifts his hands up. "No harm done Joe. She's all yours."

"Yeah, isn't that great," Joey beams happily.

He takes my hand and pulls me gently towards him. Everything else around me fades away when I see how he looks at me. How could I have never noticed what he feels for me, when now all his feelings are so visible in his eyes, so palpable in every little gesture?

I always wondered why I kept being in love with him for all this time. Why I could never convince myself without any doubt, that there was nothing there. Maybe somewhere in the back of my mind, I always knew, I always felt it.

"Well, I'm afraid I have to rob you guys of my invaluable presence, but I have a hot date with this … garbage bag over here. So, have a nice evening."

Chandler proceeds to pull the bag through the hall until Joey can't take it anymore. "Oh come on man. It'll take you days to handle this alone. Here, let me help you."

Without waiting for Chandler's protest, Joey lifts the bag over his shoulder and heads towards the stairs. He then turns around to me for a moment, smiling. "Just stay right here, beautiful."

I nod, indicating that I plan on waiting inside. Joey smiles again and then all but jumps down the stairs.

"Come on Chan, I don't have time to wait for you," I hear him yelling before I close the door.

The apartment looks different than a few hours before. Messier somehow. A lot messier. There isn't even a place to sit. There is stuff everywhere. On the couch, on the lounger, on the kitchen counter, even on the foosball table and I know how much Joey hates it when someone puts stuff on there.

What is he doing?

It looks like the trail leads to his bedroom. The room is in the same state mine at Ross'S was a few hours ago.  
Oh my God, is he moving out?  
After panicking for a few seconds, I push the silly thought away and try to find a more probable reason. Maybe if I had tried that approach before, I would have spared us quite some heartache.

It looks like he sorted out clothes he doesn't plan on wearing anymore and there even is a whole box of old 'Playboy' issues.  
He is making room for us.  
Nothing would have told me how much he wants us to live with him as this does. I'm glad I've seen this, I'm glad I don't have to have a single doubt anymore that he wants this as much as I do. I know he told me, but after all that happened, I guess I needed more than that to believe it.

The door opens and Joey barges in, sweaty and out of breath. Maybe I should have told **him** not to run.

"You won't believe how heavy all that stupid stuff was, Chandler had to throw away. And to make things really interesting, it didn't fit in the garbage chute," he pants.

"Looks like Chandler isn't the only one sorting out stuff."

Joey looks around a bit embarrassed. "I wasn't expecting company." He takes a few tentative steps towards me and smiles. "Not that I'm not totally happy that you're here."

There is a nasty looking bruise on the left side of his face, where Ross had hit him. I close the space between us and place a gentle kiss on that spot. "Does it hurt?"

"No, it actually feels kinda nice. You can do it again any time," he jokes.

"I mean the bruise."

That makes him wince. "Yeah, a bit. I wouldn't have thought Ross would have it in him to punch that hard."

That really must have been an interesting conversation.

"You should see his hand."

He chuckles at that. After just looking at me for a while, he puts one arm around me and pulls me close to him, caressing my face and tucking a wayward strand of hair behind my ear.

"How long can you stay?"

"Ross has Emma for the whole night."

I can see that these words do to him what they do to me. They make him excited and anxious at the same time. It's pretty obvious what the excitement is about, I just wonder for what reason he feels nervous. And I'm quite sure it's not the same I have.

I suppose we still have some talking to do. As much as I would want to just crawl into his arms, shower him with kisses and make love to him until we both drop dead from exhaustion; more than that I want us to start being totally honest with each other, to not say things because we think it's what the other one wants to hear, but because it is really what we feel. I want to get rid of every possibility that we're ever gonna hurt us again because we didn't talk. That's why I tear myself away from him, using all the willpower I possess.

"So, can I help you somehow with this?" I ask, taking a pile of old DOOL scripts off the foosball table.

"There actually is something you can help me with."

He takes the scripts from me and puts them back on the table, takes my hand and leads me to his bedroom. So much for talking.

"What do you think of this as our bedroom? Or should we make your old room the bedroom and this could be Emma's nursery?"

This totally takes me by surprise.

"Uhm ...", I have to clear my throat which gets me a curious look from Joey and try to calm myself down enough to be able to speak. "... I haven't even thought of this."

What I thought was more along the lines of using this room right now for the same purpose we used it before.

"But ... you said ... remember ... how you want to sleep in my bed every night, so I thought ... but if it's to soon for you it's okay, we can..."

See, this is exactly what happens every time I let my desire for him take over. I end up making him feel bad.

"No, no. No, Joey. Of course I still want that. I'd love to have one bedroom for the two of us. I was just surprised. If anything, I thought it would be to soon for you. I mean, you lived alone for a while and now we waltz in here, taking over everything. I know that men need their space."

Joey shakes his head. "Let me tell you something about space, Rachel. I had all the space I wanted for ten long months. Turns out, I don't need space. I need you."

"I need you too, Joey. I did for the longest time. Remember ...?"

I look back at the lounger that is now buried under a pile of clothes.

"How could I forget this? It was one of the most memorable experiences of my life."

"Was it?"

"Of course it was. Rachel I ... I was already in love with you back then. I hadn't realized it at that time, but now I know that I was. What happened, what you did, was like a gift, like something I couldn't stop thinking about but was never hoping to get. For me, it was a lot more than just fun."

There is a tinge of reproach in his voice and the realization that I started everything with this careless remark makes me wonder why **he** wanted to give me another chance.

"I'm so sorry I said that, Joe."

"Was it what you felt about me back then? That I could be someone to have fun with?"

He doesn't sound reproachful at all when he asks me this. It is more like he really wants to know how different we felt about the same thing back then.

"No, not really. Since the time we watched 'Cujo' together I was addicted to being close to you. Everything I did came from this. It took me the longest time to realize why I was needing you so much."

"Then why did you say it?"

"Because ... Joey ... because it was. I mean, even if it meant so much more to both of us, but it was ... at least for me ... fun. I've never felt better than while having sex with you. I've never felt more alive."

"You're right. I mean ... it was amazing."

The way he grins now, I know he starts to see my point. "So, what about the bedroom problem?"

"I don't know. What about the guy who sings every morning?"

"He moved out a few years ago."

"Hmm...that's definitely a plus for this room."

I take a few steps inside and look around me. Memories of all the things that happened in here come unbidden to me, memories of passion and pain, of kisses and unshed tears. Memories that are making my knees so weak I have to sit down on the bed.

"A lot happened in here," I say after a while.

Joey sits down beside me, taking my hand in his. "Do you want stuff to happen in here again?"

My imagination answers his question with an overwhelming richness of scenarios, one more sensual and arousing then the other, forcing me to close my eyes and lean my head back a little.

"Mmhh, yeah", I whisper but it sounds more like a moan, which startles me out of erotic dream world.

Looking at him I expect amusement, a knowing grin or something, but I see eyes black as a frying pan, a fire smoldering in their depths. It's breathtaking. Not so much the sight itself, but the fact that he doesn't hide anything from me anymore.

"Tell me what you just saw," he demands with a rumbling voice so deep and sexy, I ask myself how any red blooded woman would ever have been able to say no to him. Well, maybe that's the reason there were so many, because none of them could. Not surprisingly, I'm no exception.

Closing my eyes I try to get a hold of one of those scenarios again. "I saw us ... together ... here in this room ... on this bed ..."

"Yeah," he whispers encouragingly while running his fingers lightly up my arm, making me shiver.

The image in my head gets clearer. I see myself lying naked on the bed, moaning and panting, then there is Joey, naked as well, crawling up to me, looking at me ...

My eyes snap open and I violently jerk away from his touch. I knew this stupid fear would catch up with me in the most inopportune moment. I also know I'll have to tell him about it because there is no reason for me to believe this won't happen again.

"Rachel, what happened? Did I do something wrong?"

God, how many times do I have to make this man doubt himself tonight? I've got to tell him.

"No, no Joey, you didn't. It's me, I ..."

But how do I tell him this without dying of embarrassment?

"What is it?"

"I'm a bit scared."

"Of what?"

"Of ...of ..."

Just say it. Couldn't be more embarrassing than stuttering like that.

"... having sex again."

Joey's expression relaxes considerably. Obviously for him, this isn't a big deal. For me, it is.

"You worried it might hurt? I promise, I won't hurt you. We were always careful before, so..."

I wish it were that easy.

"I know. I know Joey. But it's not that."

He doesn't say anything anymore, sensing that he has to let me get this out on my own.

"There are ... changes. You know. There is ... a scar."

Please don't let him ask where.

"I know there is."

That's unexpected. But ... reassuring somehow.

"How do you know that?"

"The way you looked at every chair for the first week after Emma was born, as if it was about to bite you?"

That makes me smile a little.

"Look Rach, I know this is probably a lousy time to bring this up, but you're actually not the first woman I've ever been with, who already had a baby. So I know a bit about the 'changes'."

Again - although his mentioning his past experiences should upset me - it's reassuring he knows about this stuff.

"But you know me from before. You would know the difference."

That makes him look taken aback, in a slightly insulted kind of way.

"Are you telling me this is about _me_, about what _I_ think about those 'changes'?"

"I know what _I_ think about them."

He shakes his had sadly, looking at our joined hands for a while, thinking. After a few moments he looks up at me again, a challenge in his eyes.

"Wanna know what I think about them? I think we'll have a lot of fun with them."

"How's that?"

He looks pointedly at my midsection and grins. "We have a lot more ... options now. And there are other things too. Let me prove this to you."

"But..."

"Rachel, you are the most beautiful, the most desirable woman I've ever met. Nothing can change that."

I can feel the tears springing to my eyes at his words. "Do you have any idea how often I fantasized about you saying something like this to me?"

With a gentle movement he wipes away a tear that had rolled down my cheek. "I wish I had." His hand falls back into his lap and he looks down guiltily. "I'm sorry I never did. I'm sorry I never let you know how much I wanted you, how much I needed you. I'm sorry I made you doubt yourself. I can't even imagine anymore how I could've made it through a whole year without telling you that you're beautiful because I sure as hell thought it every time I saw you."

While we're at depressing ourselves with dwelling in our unhappy past, there is one thing I still need to know, something I still don't understand.

"Why did you want me to move out, Joey? I mean, I understand now what you must have been through, but what was it that made you snap?"

"Seeing you with Ross. Remember, it was the day he broke up with Mona, and you were hugging him and ... this was the moment I knew I couldn't take it anymore."

"So this was why you were running out of the coffeehouse. You were jealous?"

He laughs mirthlessly. "Yeah, frighteningly so. I scared even myself."

This brings back unpleasant memories. Not about Joey and me, but about Ross and me.

"You think you're over this? Because if you don't trust me..."

"I do trust you Rach. Maybe back then it wasn't so much jealousy but envy. It felt like even if I had your body, he had your heart."

It's painful to think that the moment I realized that I love Joey, was also the moment he thought I never could.

"I guess that was the main misconception you had about me. That I could sleep with a guy for months without having feelings for him."

"What was yours?"

"My?"

"Biggest misconception. And, please don't say 'you're Joey'. I heard that one twice already today."

I wonder who besides myself could make him feel this bad about being who he is. My money is on Chandler and Ross, although I think they weren't trying to hurt him with this any more than I was.

"Well, then let me put it differently. I thought you wouldn't want a serious relationship, ... with a pregnant woman, ... who got herself knocked up by your best friend."

"Which, roughly translated, means 'you're Joey'."

"Which also sums up very nicely all the reasons I fell in love with you."

A hint of a smile plays around his lips. "There are so many?"

Maybe I can make him smile a little more. "Hey, I don't just love you because you're great in bed."

This makes him flinch visibly. You just gotta love the effect I have on him. I'm ready to kill myself any moment now.

"What's wrong Joey?"

"It's just ... it's been ten months. I might not be able to live up to the memories you have of us being together."

I think I have a pretty good idea why he thinks that.

"Joey, I want this at least as much as you do. Before, when I was standing outside your door before Chandler came out? I almost passed out from excessive anticipation. You think you won't last long? I'm sure I'll beat you to it. You know I can."

But then again, what do I know, because this seems to have been only a part of his insecurities.

"But what then? When the edge is taken off? When it becomes routine? I was thinking, when we did it before, it was always like every time could be the last. It was always this now or never kind of edge to it. What if without this, it wouldn't be so great anymore?"

"You're afraid having sex with me will get boring after a while?"

"No, no Rachel, I wasn't talking about me. I know what I liked about when we were together, but I also know what I missed. And I think that if I can have all the stuff that I missed before, I won't need anything else. But I don't know how you feel about this. You said before that you never felt better than while sleeping with me."

"Yeah, that's right. But that doesn't mean I cared about the 'edge'. I think without this, it could be even better. Without having to think how this might be the last time, without having to fight back tears, without having to bite my lips the whole time to keep myself from saying 'I love you'."

"I did that too."

"What? Fighting back tears?" I try to joke again.

And again, it backfires.

"Sometimes."

I don't even want to think about making him cry. It almost tore me apart a few hours ago to realize how much heartache I caused him. And there is still a sadness in him that doesn't result of his thinking about the past; a sadness that makes me sad as well. There is something he still doesn't seem to understand, something he still believes this relationship would be based on, which isn't true.

"Joey, maybe the problem is that you're still thinking that sex is everything I'll ever want from you and that it has to be this amazing, mind blowing experience every time. I mean, not that I have anything against mind blowing, but what I said before is true. That is not the reason I love you and it's not the reason I want to live with you again. I want your arms around me when we're watching a stupid horror movie, I want to sit beside you in the coffeehouse, I want to go with you and Emma on a walk in the park and talk with you for hours about everything and everyone and I want to be able to kiss you and tell you that I love you whenever I feel like doing it. And if you would tell me right now that we can never have sex again, it wouldn't matter as long as I could have everything else. If I would have to choose, there would be no question what I would rather have ..."

"... what makes me happier."

Cool, we're already finishing each other's sentences. Joey smiles wistfully, as if remembering something.

"You're right, I guess I needed to hear you say that. And just for the record, I don't intend to tell you we can never have sex again."

Thank god he's smiling again. I wouldn't have known how to handle a depressed Joey tonight.

"So, about this room ... I guess my old room is a bit bigger, don't you think?"

"Let's take a look."

He stands up not letting go of my hand and I trail behind him to my old room. We look around the empty room for a while.

"I don't think it's bigger, it just looks this way because it's empty," Joey says finally.

"But I always thought it had more daylight than yours. I think it's a good idea to make it the nursery. Plus, we never did it in here."

Crap, as if I needed to prove that sex is all I'm thinking about. Although it's not that far from the truth.

"Why not?"

"Would have been a bit of a problem to run out on you if we had been in my room, wouldn't it?"

"Why did you?"

"Remember what I said about fighting back tears? Most times I barely made it in here before losing it. I didn't want you to know about that."

Joey turns to me fully now, taking my other hand as well, looking at me seriously. "Why were we so stupid?"

"We were in love."

"But we handled it so badly."

"It was complicated."

"But we took the wrong turn every time we had to make a decision."

"Yes we did, but we have the chance to learn from that, to make it better this time."

While I caress his hands with my thumbs I notice something. Or better, I notice the lack of something. "You stopped wearing the ring."

"I sort of took it off after our fight and then I couldn't find it anymore. And believe me, I looked everywhere."

"It meant more than 'Don't hit on me while with baby', did it?"

"It meant 'Property of Rachel Green. Stay away'."

"I like that a lot. Maybe we should get you an new one."

He looks if he wants to say something, actually opens his mouth a few times and licks his lips like he always does when he's nervous about saying something, but nothing comes forth.

"Just say it honey," I say, squeezing his hand and smiling encouragingly.

He takes a somewhat shuddering deep breath and tries again. "I was thinking that sometimes … somewhere in the future … you know, not now … we might get new ones. For … for both of us."

His eyes are cast downwards and he shifts nervously from one foot to the other. He thinks that what he said scares me, which it doesn't. It couldn't be farther from scaring me. I should let him know that.

"I would be happy if we would do that. I'm glad we have a future."

That makes him smile broadly, although I think I still see a question in his eyes.

"Anything else?"

"It's just … Rachel I want so much for us. I want everything. Kids, a house … a dog. You're the one woman I could see myself having all that with and I want you to know that."

Looks like I'll still get to live my perfect life I always dreamt about.

"I'm glad you told me. Now I know I don't have to drag you kicking and screaming where I want us to go."

Joey chuckles a bit and leans his forehead lightly against mine. "No, you don't have to. I'll go everywhere with you."

"I love you Joey."

"I love you Rachel."

And then we kiss. Probing and gently at first but before it gets to heated up, I pull back, trying to form a question I need to ask him before we get started.

The expression on Joey's face, so full of love and open passion makes it even harder to speak.

"I think for now, we're done talking, Rach."

Good. That's all I needed to know.

It takes us about twenty seconds to arrive at the point we were a few hours ago, before Chandler knocked at the door. At the point where we've given up on being seductive or gentle, at the point where everything that counts is satisfying the burning need for each other.

Joey has pushed me against the nearest wall, assaulting my neck with rough and greedy kisses that are driving me crazy. His hands seem to be everywhere. One of them is definitely wandering up my leg now, heading for the spot where I ache the most. When he touches me there lightly, a frustrated growl comes out of my throat. I don't have any patience for this. I've waited too long. Gentleness can come later. Right now, there is only one thing I need.

"Joey ... inside ... now", I pant.

He stops for a second, hopefully thinking about how to handle the situation. There is no chance we're gonna make it to the couch, let alone his room. I slip my hand between us, starting to unbutton the fly of his jeans. With an unexpected move he lifts me up and pushes himself against me further. I wrap my legs around his waist when I hear the sound of ripping fabric and see Joey discarding what's left of my panties. And then I can feel him against my entrance and I'm closing my eyes in breathless anticipation. I use my legs to pull him in and when he pushes into me, filling me completely, there is this feeling again. The feeling of completeness, the feeling of being where I want to be, the feeling of being truly myself.

Yes, I meant what I said that if I would have to choose, I would rather live without sex than without love. But lucky for me, I don't have to choose, I can have both and I wasn't even close to imagining how good this would feel.

"Oh god I missed you so much Joey … love you … love you."

His response is an almost pained groan. I can tell from his total lack of movement that he tries to calm down a bit, to control this, to draw this out, but like I said, I have no patience for that. I tighten around him and besides from forcing him to make that sound again, it sends a ripple of sweet pleasure through me, bringing me close to fulfillment without any of us even moving.

When I do it again, I experience the delicious torture of almost being there but not quite getting enough stimulation.  
But also what I did obviously broke Joey's will to impress me with his self control. He thrusts into me and I don't need more than that.

Suddenly I feel very light, like I'm floating away, then my body clenches and a wave of pleasure hits me so hard, I think I might pass out.  
Joey needs about two more thrusts to follow me over the edge with an orgasmic scream that reverberates loudly through the empty room.

We stay like this for a while, basking in the afterglow of having found to one another again.

"I missed you too, Rachel. So very much. I love you … love you," Joey whispers into my ear breathlessly. In moments like these, it still feels like some particularly vivid and happy example of one of my daydreams.

But then I sense Joey getting uncomfortable because apparently I get a bit heavy after a while. This is so not daydream material. He puts me back on the floor gently and we're both busying ourselves with tucking everything where it belongs.

When we look at each other again, we both grin widely.

"You really beat me to it," Joey smirks.

"Told'ya."

I'm looking at the wall behind us and start giggling.

"What's the amusement about?" he asks, stepping towards me, enveloping me in his arms.

"I never did it like that before."

"Did you like it?" he murmurs seductively into my ear.

"You couldn't tell?"

He chuckles against my neck. The vibrations caused by that make me gasp. I don't think I will get much sleep tonight. Not that I came here to do that.

"I guess there is a lot of other stuff you didn't do as well, is there?"

Joey's mouth leaves my neck and wanders over my face, leaving fluttering kisses in it's path.

"I wouldn't know."

It gets increasingly harder to participate in this conversation, especially with his hand wandering down my back and further down still.

"Maybe I should show you a few things I think you might like."

His wandering hand has reached it's goal in the meantime and my knees just give way under me at the contact. Joey carefully lowers me to the floor, still kissing me. The way it looks to me, we won't make it out of this room anytime soon. Who cares.

"Sounds … sounds like a plan."

I'm so proud of me that I still know what he said before. Maybe we can learn to do both things at the same time, talking and making love. Could come in handy.

"But it's a lot of stuff. I mean, we can't do all of this in one night, you know?"

He stops kissing me when he says that, looking very deeply, very seriously at me. He wants to know how much time we have, how much of a future. And although I already told him that, this seems the one thing he needs to hear more than once.

"That's okay, Joey. We have our whole life."

XXXXXXXXXXX


	17. Epilogue

**Epilogue **

18 years later, Emma

Today is the day I leave my childhood behind once and for all.  
Or at least this is the way my father sees it because I think I'm way beyond my childhood already.

What I really leave behind is a bunch of people who mean a lot to me. People I can't remember and can't imagine being without.

They're all here at the airport to say goodbye to me before I board the plane that brings me to San Francisco.  
As usual, we are the biggest crowd.

There is aunt Phoebe, her husband Mike and their children and aunt Monica and uncle Chandler with my two cousins Jack and Erica.  
Then there is my father and his wife Charlie with my sister Ruth.  
And of course my mother and Joe, my other dad. With them are my sister Maria and my little brother Joey.

My brother seems not to be too interested in his big sister going away. He is flirting with some girl, something I think he does since he learned how to smile. Mom always says about this, that it is amazing how much he takes after his father. Which is odd since I can't imagine Joe even so much as looking at someone else than mom, even though they're married for more than 16 years now.

Admittedly, judging from old photographs from Joe when he was 12, Joey looks a lot like his father. Uncle Chandler sometimes jokingly asks, if my mother really found it necessary to inflict another Joey Tribbiani onto mankind. To that my mother always says that she thinks there can't be enough of them. I guess that's the reason he's mom's very special little boy who can get away with almost anything just by smiling all sweetly at her. He has her totally wrapped around his little finger.

Good thing I have Joe wrapped around mine.

To think I have to leave them, that I have to live on my own from today on scares me a bit. I mean I wanted that. This is why I choose Berkeley, because I can't run to one of my families if anything goes wrong, I have to deal with stuff alone.

Of course I know that if something would go really wrong, they would come running in no time.  
My brother Ben went to college there and he already told me everything he thinks I need to know. And I'm sure somewhere in San Francisco there is a Tribbiani, Joe can send to the rescue immediately if lightning strikes.

But mostly I'm still gonna be on my own.

And I'm gonna miss them. Every single one of them.

I remember how frustrating it always was to make people understand how I felt about my family. Even grandma Geller had troubles understanding why I regarded Joe as one of my dads. She shook her head and said, "My grandson has to moms and you have two dads. I guess I'm too old for getting used to this, sweety." Even back then I kept my mouth shut about the fact that I sometimes called Charlie mom as well.

I guess this was when I started to learn to not tell people what they don't want to hear.  
Sometimes I just told people that my parents are divorced and married to new spouses. Which isn't even a lie but leads people to believe I had a normal all-american childhood with parents who got divorced after I was born.  
Not a happy childhood, but who cares.

But I **had** a happy childhood.

My parents got divorced three years before I even was conceived. My mother fell in love with the man she is still very happily married to, when she was pregnant with me. They married when I was two years old, the same year my father married Charlie, his fourth (and how he always says when uncle Chandler is mocking him about it – last) wife.

I always felt loved and at home, regardless if I was with my mother or my father.

The times I spent at my mom's I was one of the Tribbianis, when I was with my father, I was a Geller kid. A lot of the friends I had actually envied me for the opportunity to 'switch' families.

My childhood was almost never boring or uneventful. Over all the years my parents stayed very close to their friends, they all lived in the same neighbourhood.

The house of the Bings is actually only across the street from the house my mother and Joe live in. From what I've gathered, they bought those houses at the same time after my mother and Joe got married. I can still remember the day we moved out of Joe's old apartment because while crawling around in the mostly empty place, I found some ring, Joe apparently had lost a few years ago. I still don't know why Joe and mom acted as if it was a miracle.

Anyway, living so close together meant that regardless if it was the 4th of July or Thanksgiving or all the many birthday parties, there was always a bunch of kids to play with.

To be honest, when I was around 12 years old, I sometimes wished there wouldn't be so many and that I wouldn't be one of the older kids since we always had to watch the younger ones. And babysitting Joseph Francis Tribbiani III. while he was playing – or fighting - with his pal Jack Charles Bing definitely was a pain. Joey is two years younger than Jack but he always gave as good as he got and at least one of them always managed to get himself injured. Try to imagine aunt Phoebe's boys mixed up in that and the disaster was unavoidable.  
But I guess my big brother Ben got it even worse since he was the oldest one and had to deal with a bunch of princesses on top of that.

My two sisters Ruth and Maria were born when I was three. I don't remember the day Ruth was born but I still can recall a few details of Maria's birthday. Mostly that Joe had tears in his eyes when he told everyone they had a healthy daughter. I can still remember the strange feeling of seeing this big strong man cry. My three year old self tried to console him by telling him what mom always told me before Maria was born. That even though she was going to have another baby she wasn't going to love me any less than before. Joe enveloped me in one of these bear hugs of his and told me that he wasn't sad, that he wasn't afraid of mom not loving him anymore, that he was just so very happy.  
Back then I didn't really understand how someone would cry when he was happy – I learned that much later.

It's time to go and everyone shakes my hand and hugs me and somewhere in between I start crying because I already start to miss them.

"Hey sis, good luck and do nothing I wouldn't do."

"What, my homework?", I quip under tears. Joey just smiles at me and if I wouldn't know better, I would say he looks a bit sad.

"I'm gonna miss you so much, Emma", Maria says, crying as well. Ruth doesn't even say anything, she just hugs me for a long time.

"Take care and if you need anything, call us, alright?"

"Alright Charlie."

My father is next to embrace me. "You heard her, Emma, call us. Whatever happens, day or night, call us. You know we're worried about you."

"Yes dad, I know."

He reluctantly lets me go and I fall into the arms of my mother.

"I can't believe I have to give you away already," she sobs. "You were just a baby not so long ago."

"Mom, I am 19 years old."

"I know, I know. And when you're seeing someone, call me. I want to know anything about that, okay?"

"Okay mom."

"Yeah, and you can give me his phone number since I'll have to have a few words with him," Joe cuts in.

I was just wondering when that one would come up. Joe and my boyfriends are one of the reasons I thought going somewhere else would be a good idea.

"I won't do that, daddy, because you surely will scare him away."

"I won't, I just think you can't trust those college boys."

The first few times when I brought a boy to my parents house I was mad at Joe for behaving like he did, for giving those poor guys such a hard time. But it had it's advantages. The few ones that were willing to go out with me despite the overly protective stepfather, really made sure to treat me nice.

"Oh sure … every boyfriend I ever had was scared shitless of you."

He smiles at me almost apologetically and envelopes me in his arms. "Was I really that bad?"

"No, no you weren't. I can't imagine my life without you, dad. But I have to learn how to live without you protecting me all the time."

"I'll always protect you, Emma, I've promised you that once. You're just making it a tiny bit harder."

Eventually he steps back and puts an arm around mom, wiping his eyes surreptitiously.

I turn around and walk through security.  
When I turn around again to look at them one last time, I see my mother sobbing into Joe's chest. My brother pats Maria on the back comfortingly.

My father and Charlie are waving and smiling encouragingly as do Monica, Chandler and all the others.

Looking back at all of them I have to think of something uncle Chandler said to me a few years ago at one of our big 4th of July barbecues.

"Look at all those people", he'd said. "You know what gets to me every time I see them all together like this?"

"Well, I guess you're going to tell me."

"That I love them. Every single one of them."

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THE END

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A/N: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed this story. I hope everyone who read it enjoyed it.  
If you like my writing and if you want to see another story from me again sometime, I would be happy if you'll let me know.

Thanks for reading.

Kristin


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